Tuesday 4th June

There are many struggles in life. The very act of being born (thank goodness none of us can remember) is itself an incredible struggle.  How traumatic to be squeezed like an obstinate lump of toothpaste buffeted on all sides and dragged literally from your safe home and into the brightness of the world with cold air forced into your virgin lungs, and loud noises all around.  What an assault on the senses.  Then growing up, learning all the hard lessons of life.  Despite being dressed as a Princess – you will have to work just like everyone else my girl.  No Cowboy days for you either sonny.  And the hard knocks as you struggle to get through school and get a job.  The sheer boredom and repetition of work.  Nobody gives you a manual, an instruction book – we all have to struggle to make some sense of it all.

Then there are the illnesses, cold, flu, chicken pox, broken limbs.  Headaches – they could have spared me those surely.  And then depression.  I, along with many of you have suffered days and weeks of depression.  There is no real reason for it, you thrash around trying to find just what is making you so miserable – but the only answer is that it is all going on in your wretched head.  And then getting old, aches and pains, the weary look in the mirror as you see jowls and bags under the eyes, as you look down and see a tummy where you once had none.  The struggle to motivate yourself.  Retirement in itself can be a struggle too, trying to find a reason for getting up in the morning.

And yet maybe nothing can prepare us for the struggle of the approaching end of our lives.  Every death we hear about somehow diminishes our own lives too.  Too painful to even think about our own mortality, we feel the pain as our parents get older and weaker.  And one begins to ask questions about the nature of life itself.  Why all this struggle, what purpose does it possibly serve?

And of course we conveniently forget all the good times, the sheer exuberance of being alive, the wonderful taste of food, the marvelous magic of music, the beauty of art, the wonder of reading and writing.  And that begins to put all the struggle into perspective.   Without the struggle and pain we would never appreciate the beauty of life itself.  So, we must learn to take it all, the pain and the pleasure, and not complain.  I doubt anyone is listening anyway, too busy coming to terms themselves with the struggles of life.

Sorry if this sounds maudlin.  Must be ‘cos I’m back in England.  France tomorrow (today), so I WILL cheer up.  Promise.