I occasionally speak about, and often allude to, the subject of maintaining good mental health. Because doing so has needed to be an ongoing part of my own life.

When the malaise hits, one of things I’ve started to try and do, is to remind myself of this simple fact:

Life is a privilege.

I don’t personally believe that it was destiny that I exist. Nor inevitable.

I exist by virtue of a billion, trillion, choices and chances that occurred over vast amounts of time…any one of which could have gone in a different direction and meant that I wasn’t here:

To feel, good and bad.
To see, beauty and horror.
To experience, excitement and mundanity. To think. To smell. To taste. To touch.
To hope.

To write these words.

To sing a song.

I am, or if I’m not, I can choose to be, very grateful for this privilege.