
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


What happens when the theology you were raised inside begins to soften, and the person who taught it to you is willing to soften too?
Last year, I completed what was my own "Year to Live" exercise. At the top of that commitment was my relationship with my mom. She raised me and my siblings inside the Seventh-day Adventist church. Faith shaped everything—what to eat, what to fear, what to believe, what to bury.
And yet here we are…sitting on the kitchen table, reading The Third Jesus by Deepak Chopra together. No microphones. No plan. Just two former Adventists, opening a book neither of us could've touched when I was a kid.
In This Episode:
Key Insights:
This isn't a polished podcast. It's a prayer you overheard - a raw conversation about what opens between a mother and son when grief softens, and religion lets go.
Watch on YouTube
Connect with David:
Episode 2: Not About Death — What You're Really Afraid Of
Most of us aren’t afraid of dying. We’re afraid of what death reflects back at us. Our regrets, our tenderness, our joy, and everything we’ve been avoiding.
In this episode, I share my story and the vision for this podcast. I talk about what it means to live with one year left, and how that question has shaped the way I show up now—as a poet, death doula, and someone who helps others reunite with their humanity.
What to expect in this episode:
This podcast is here to help you return to what matters most.
—
Hosted by David Morin
Poet | Death Doula | Prison Facilitator
@mor.intune
A Year to Live
Apprenticeship of the Unknown
Ep 1: Darkness, Surrender, and the Poet Within with Sarah McCash
In this first episode of A Year to Live, David Morin and Sarah McCash dive deep into David's life-changing experience of a darkness retreat four years ago. What began as a casual phone call between friends turned into a moving, unfiltered conversation that helped shape the very structure of this podcast.
As Sarah prepares for her own darkness retreat, she reached out to David to reflect on his experience. Together, they rehash his transformative journey of surrendering to darkness, embracing the unknown, and discovering the poet within.
This is not a polished studio interview. It's a real, spontaneous phone call full of raw, honest, and unexpected magic.
*A Note on the Title*
A Year to Live is inspired by the book of the same name by meditation teacher and author Stephen Levine. While this podcast is an independent project, the heart of this idea—that reuniting with your mortality can radically transform the way you live—finds its roots in his work. May this serve as a living continuation of that invitation.
Meet Sarah McCash
Sarah McCash is a Manhattan-based storyteller and death doula, obsessed with all things death, mortality, and soulful transitions. Her presence is equal parts deep feeler and curious seeker. As someone called to care for the dying, Sarah brings a refreshing enthusiasm to conversations about grief, fear, intuition, and awakening. She’s a member of David’s first A Year to Live cohort and has agreed to document parts of her journey through recorded conversations like this one.
In this episode, we discuss:
Resources:
Join David's Cohort. If you're ready to explore your own mortality with a small group of other seekers like you, book a call with David here or send him a message on IG. https://calendly.com/morindavid9113/60min
David on Instagram: @mor.intune
More from David Morin:
Thank you for listening! If this episode resonated with you, please subscribe, rate, and review.
From the publisher's feed
Welcome to A Year to Live | Apprenticeship of the Unknown
What if you lived this next year like it was your last?
A Year to Live is a podcast about mortality,…
Some episodes may be unscripted, often recorded phone calls, exploring what it means to surrender, wake up, and live on purpose.
Inspired by the book A Year to Live by Stephen Levine, this is an independent project rooted in personal experience. It invites you to apprentice yourself to the unknown and follow the quiet voice within.