The old teachings tell of monks going to charnel grounds to meditate and face their fears. Good practice, but maybe needlessly theatrical, as our fears are always close by enough for us to smell them. A person would have to be very deep in denial (or perhaps very young) for a journey in search of their fears to be necessary.
We’re always in the charnel ground, but usually pretending we’re not. If we sat long enough in a literal charnel ground, we’d get used to it and become less aware of it, less aware of reality.
This is Burns Night, and it should be noted that, though he likely never heard of Zen or Buddhism, he was one of the great Zen poets of the West:
But pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow falls in the river,
A moment white – then melts for ever;
Or like the borealis race,
That flit ere you can point their place;
Or like the rainbow’s lovely form
Evanishing amid the storm.
Many people go through life with one identity, based on an aggregate of subordinate identities, often a hybrid of job and family role. When we don't hold on to identities, when we let go of old things as we move on to new things (without clinging to the new), we can be amazed as we realise all the different people we have been.