Sunday 30th July 2017

Today is Sunday.

Wow, what a difference a good night’s sleep, your friends, family, pets and loved ones can make.

My best friend in the world came round to see me last night, as I was sat in the house, feeling so lost, hopeless and terrified.

We made a brew- a good cup of tea REALLY does sort so many things out, I mean think about it- all the herbs and flowers grown in the world, somewhere on this beautiful Earth, gathered together, chopped finely, and then served kindly through (hot!) water, into anything we can use as a teacup. Be it an actual china cup, a glass, a jar, a thimble, a can or whatever material it is, in this world, which will hold it all together for you just so you can sip. You get my point.

We had such a good chat about life, about nursing the dying, learning new techniques to ease people’s pain, to improve somebody’s quality of life, while it’s still here, because my Buddha/God/Allah/Thor/Jesus/Freya/Mother Earth/Theresa/Queen- whoever or whatever it is about this spirituality, which exists within us all, and wherever on Earth, or beyond it (and more!) might have come from- this ‘Gift is Life’.

This life, that we humans– creatures, great and small, which refers to plants and mushrooms of course, too- is just so incredibly precious. It is beautiful, that all our ancestors, parents, fossils, buffalo, birds, dinosaurs- ‘Higgs Boson’ quantum particles, matter, dust and sound, can all really come together for humans, to help us make sense of the world, when bad things happen within it, and when they don’t. These gorgeous ‘gifts’, these ‘principles’, or  ‘mathematical equations’, paintings, songs, children… They really do help guide us through this strange and unpredictable world, with hope and with light, and wonderful, wonderful curiosity.

It truly is worth caring about, thinking about, planning about, praying and paying about. Life matters the most. We hate losing the ones we love- grief can be so strange, cruel, unpredictable and terrifying. But what really matters is what we leave behind, what we give, share, create, teach, sew, feed and/or read.

It is those memories, those precious, hidden and sometimes ‘muffled up’, or confused, misinterpreted, or called ‘inappropriate fantasies’/ ‘Chinese Whispers’/ ‘Ghost stories’/ ‘bad trips’. This strange concoction of medication we find; we eat, we dance with, we relieve pain with, and we die with. These ‘Stories’ really are worth caring about, swearing about, building about and spending about.

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