This Brief Instant

Hey.

How’s it all going today?

Did you sleep the sleep of the innocent, dream of angels and beauty or did your brain keep you awake with recriminations and worry?

Do you ever wish you could wind back the clock to the point that you allowed your potential soul-mate to leave – or that you left them?

What would you change?

What would you say?

What about that subject at school that you skipped that would have been so useful?

Or the time that you told your boss to fuck off and diverted your career?

Or the words that you wish you could have told someone and that you’d give anything to say now?

You’re not alone.

We’ve all been there.

If only.

If.

She would.

He would.

We would.

What?

Be happy?

How would you define that ?

Anyway, you know the answer really, we can’t go back, we can’t reverse what we did or where we’ve been.

We can’t find that moment when it all…..

She’d still leave for another reason, he’d still be the seething mass of hatreds and insecurities that he was then.

This is it.

This is where we are and this is all we have.

But that just means that you have choices, you have multiple choices every day, you can choose to reach out to that old friend and say hello again.

You can send a message on a Sunday evening to a work colleague who just lost their best friend and tell them to take all the time they need, you have their back.

You can donate to charity, you can help out at a shelter, you can cut your aged neighbours’ lawn or do their shopping for them.

You can study again, this time in a subject that fascinates you, not a random item in a curriculum that you had no choice in.

You can travel.

You can adopt a dog.

Of course, if you adopt a dog, you may have to get another.

And the little bastards may just break the armour that you’ve layered over your emotions and make you care about more than just you.

And you know deep down that one day you’ll lose them.

But the choice to live with unconditional love and companionship without judgment, that’s not a bad trade-off.

It’s one that I’d make again and again..

Whatever your choices, make one today .

And then again tomorrow.

We can’t go back, but we can try to steer which way we’re going as we move forward.

 Or as Marcus Aurelius put it

 ‘Forget everything else. Keep hold of this alone and remember it: Each of us lives only now, this brief instant. The rest has been lived already, or is impossible to see. The span we live is small—small as the corner of the earth in which we live it. Small as even the greatest renown, passed from mouth to mouth by short-lived stick figures, ignorant alike of themselves and those long dead’

Carpe Vitam

It’s Sunday evening and the sun is still fairly high in a clear ish sky, I have a beer that’s refracting the remaining rays into amber patterns onto my table and I have music playing in the background – Uktravox at this very moment, a track called We Stand Alone.

The dogs are in the house somewhere, most likely dozing in their favoured spots, sofas and fluffy beds and I have a clear view of the hills for a change.

It’s barely stopped raining for days now, both at home and in the Bath area, the roads and fields are flooded, with fields pouring out their excess into small streams that gurgle by the side of the road.

As for the state of the country generally, let’s not go there. Morgan McSweeney has just resigned, another casualty of Calamity Keir.

I’ve been letting myself go with the flow for a few weeks, with Wednesday night being a prime example.

Out with some of the team after work for dinner.

Take the drunkest of them into The Raven to glory in the spot where Starmer was ejected from a few years ago.

Bump into other people.

Merge the drinking.

Go with the drunkest of them to a Cuban bar where we drink rum cocktails that they set on fire.

And so on.

I have no real master-plan for work so it’s been sort of fun to just see what happens when you throw some comments into meetings to see how people jump.

And it’s made me appreciate home and the doglets more, their leaping around and frenzied barking and licking when I walk through the door could make a statue smile.

They follow me around more when I’m at home, just in case I escape again and they cling tight on the sofa and at bedtime.

Cairo colonises my legs, hardly moving at all, while Milo takes some time to finally settle by my ear, his breathing making soft susurrations that help me drift off too.

We wake early on work days to walk in the dark, their little light up collars making them seem somehow different, little otherworldly creatures bouncing along with tails wagging and just living for the moment.

Every moment is there for them to enjoy, they don’t think of the future, the wider world or any of our pedestrian concerns.

They love absolutely and it’s in the small moments that I share with them that I could almost believe in a deity.

But a deity of sun and snow, wind and rain, of barking and running, snoozing and zoomies.

I could get behind that particular idea of god.

One that tells us to seize this life and make of it what we will.