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I almost never think about the process of being prepared for burial. My mind simply doesn't go there, thankfully. What's the point of dwelling on the details?

In contrast, Buddhist monks are directed to visit a cemetery where they are expected to sit at a gravesite and meditate for hours on the decaying corpse... in minute detail. This is supposed to free the mind from attachment to the self, to the body, to the illusion of permanence. What if you already have a vivid, if not overactive, imagination? For me, this "practice" is all together unnecessary.

rain off the gutters
I don't want to
be embalmed