The art of being alive.

You finally get 12 minutes to yourself and somehow you’re upstairs trying to have a quick orgasm because apparently even your pleasure has made it onto the to do list.

The washing needs doing, the dog needs walking, there’s money to make, people to look after, ideas you haven’t touched in months and dreams you keep promising yourself you’ll get to when things calm down.

And help? You either don’t have it, don’t know how to ask for it, or you’ve been the capable one for so long that nobody thinks to offer.

You’ve become really bloody good at being needed but I’m starting to wonder if we’ve become so good at being useful that we’ve forgotten how to actually be alive.

When was the last time you did something just because you can? Not to make money, burn calories, help someone or become a better version of yourself because you wanted to.

I spent nearly 40 years trying to make something of my life and the ridiculous thing is, I created the life I used to dream about, yet I was still waiting until I made more money, finished another job or achieved the next thing before I let myself enjoy it and I have a feeling I’m not the only one.

You need another enormous to do list, a better morning routine or someone telling you to find more time, you need to get curious about yourself again.

What would you do with an afternoon if you knew nobody would forget you, nobody would leave you and you had enough money?

Because you don't need to wait until everyone needs you less, until you've made enough money or until you've finally got everything figured out.

You do not have to be useful to be worth keeping around and you don't have to earn the right to enjoy being alive.

Welcome to the art of being alive. 🪄