It’s another day.
Another day of what, I wonder?
Yes that but what else? Hopefully something more interesting, more inventive and more imaginative than everything I’ve ever known.
Is that asking too much?
Of who or what?
It’s good question, surely.
More to the point, what is this?
Well, it’s unlikely that we ever stop to ask. We hurtle forwards, with nary a whisper to our soul and when the end is in sight (if we’re not toppled from left field) we might look up long enough to ask ourselves if we mattered…or words to that effect.
Truth is I’ve been around too many dying people and nearly everyone I know didn’t want to take charge of their endings. They knew or I’d like to think they knew that there was an end date but mostly they thought that by using the dreaded ‘D’ word they’d only hasten their demise. They might have — who knows? — but for me, I do wish culturally (at least here in the West) we recognised that death is as much a part of our earth-bound existence as all that cheerleading to be the best version of ourselves or whatever it is that now passes for sanity.