When my father died in my arms it had such a profound affect on

"When my father died in my arms it had such a profound affect on me that at that very moment when my dad passed I realized that I needed to face my own fears." — Criss Angel

In these words of Criss Angel, we hear the cry of a soul awakening in the presence of mortality. To hold one’s father—the very symbol of strength and safety—in one’s arms as life departs is to stand upon the edge of existence itself. It is in that moment, when the breath ceases and the silence becomes eternal, that the fragile veil of illusion is torn away. Death, the final teacher, whispers truths that no living tongue can utter: that fear is a shadow we cast upon ourselves, and that to live fully, one must look into that shadow and step through it.

The death of a father is more than the loss of a man; it is the breaking of a pillar upon which one’s life has rested. When that pillar falls, the child—no matter how grown—must learn to stand on his own. Criss Angel’s revelation in that moment of profound grief is the awakening of courage: the realization that the fears we flee from are not outside us, but within us. When death stretches its hand before our eyes, all lesser fears—failure, rejection, ridicule—shrink into nothingness. To face one’s fears is to honor the dead, for it means we are still choosing life.

This truth has been written across the stories of humankind since time immemorial. Recall Prince Siddhartha, who became the Buddha. Sheltered from suffering all his youth, he lived among silk and song until the day he saw sickness, old age, and death. In that instant, his illusion was shattered. The fear of suffering that once imprisoned him became his doorway to enlightenment. He left his palace not to flee, but to face his fears—the fear of pain, of impermanence, of self. Only by embracing death’s lesson did he awaken to the truth of life. Thus it is: the shadow of loss conceals the light of wisdom.

Criss Angel’s moment was his own awakening. As his father’s final breath faded, something in him was reborn—a warrior spirit that could no longer hide behind comfort. The magician who once bent illusions now saw through them. The fear of death, the fear of failure, all the silent doubts that bind the heart, fell away like mist before the morning sun. In his father’s passing, he was called not to despair but to transformation—to face what he once avoided, to walk boldly where fear had drawn its line.

So too, each of us will face that moment when the universe holds up a mirror and demands we look at what we are. Some will see their fears and flee. Others will see their fears and fight. But the greatest among us—the ones who carry the wisdom of the ancients—will face their fears and find peace. For courage is not the absence of fear, but the mastery of it. It is standing before life’s storms and saying, “Though I tremble, I will not turn away.”

Remember, O seeker of truth, that fear is the gatekeeper to greatness. Every dream unfulfilled, every word unsaid, every love unspoken—these are the tombs fear builds around the living. Yet when loss comes, when death stands near, the heart remembers what truly matters. Let not such moments be wasted in sorrow alone. Let them awaken you, as they awakened Criss Angel, to the fierce beauty of existence. Let grief carve you hollow, that courage may fill you.

Therefore, learn from this: do not wait for loss to teach you how to live. Face your fears now—speak what your heart hides, do what your spirit yearns for, and love without hesitation. Remember that death is not the enemy; fear is. When your final moment comes, may you, too, pass without regret, knowing that you lived fully, bravely, and freely. For that is the legacy of the awakened—the ones who have learned that in the arms of loss, we find the courage to live.