Worth living and dying for

On Saturday, the 31st of January, we held a small memorial service for my father and his wife, both of them passing within 39 days of each other.

I spent 45 minutes writing a beautiful piece about this, intending to post it in Beauty of Beginnings. 

Through all of these last few months of intensity,  I have been plagued by endless technical issues. Just as I finished this piece, the application quit suddenly, and all of my words were lost, except the first line. I had been thinking it was some of the best words I had written in a long time.

Gone. Just like that. 

It seems I am to learn about loss. Non-attachment. Change. I just think I am through the crucible of this lesson, and I get smacked down again. 

As I write this, for the second time this morning, my partner is in the process of a massive career change decision.

Change is real, constant and unpredictable. The irony is that just when we think we have sailed into the smooth lane of our later years, just when we plan to be wrapped in the safe and secure blanket, change becomes brutal and deadly.

We cannot step into the same river twice, watch the same sunrise, breathe the same air. Or write the same piece. 

Even to try is to cling to the past, rather than live now. It is ridiculous and futile. 

Aliveness is at the edge. Where risk is. There are no guarantees. Smart decisions are not always the best decisions. Being smart can paralyse us. Sometimes we have to blow caution to the wind. 

Clinging to the safe and secure is still clinging.

The one thing we can do is find and hold our centre. Our essential who-ness. The values, ethics and moral code that define us. The Pattern Integrity of our being.

This, above all else, is worth living and dying for.

Photo Taken February 2nd 2026,  Article published February 2nd 2026