How amazing

I’m alive.


You too…for now.

Hell, if that’s not something to be grateful for I don’t know what is.

That’s not to say (of course) that life isn’t chock full of grief, sorrow and discombobulation, but how else should it be?

Easy on the mind?

Like hell.

Take a leaf out of nature’s book. It’s not only one way. It’s the whole bloody catastrophe; and, of course, it’s getting worse — in bucket loads.

But it carries on; it’s got no choice.

Think about it this way.

What gives you the right to expect to wake up tomorrow or the day after that? Only this week I met with a friend who reported on a close family member tragically dropping dead from a brain aneurysm aged 29.

Did you hear me. She was 29!

I’m pretty sure that she and her family never saw that coming.

Even if we acknowledge or accept or frailty, how then do we grasp the nettle?

What, we run a 1,000 miles an hour, headlong into the next personal development fix.


Instead, and not because I’ve got any authority or greater knowledge than you, we listen. We listen deeply to our soul’s desire.

And that means pausing just long enough to live in the space between the life we’re living and the one we know is (or should be) possible.

Then, if we’re lucky, we might come alive to our aliveness.