What’s a moment in your life that made you feel truly alive?

Oddly enough, it’s usually the moments when I’ve come closest to dying.

Which is probably not the answer you were expecting.

It’s a strange thing, really.

You spend most of your life assuming you’ve got time.

Time to do things.

Time to see people.

Time to say the things you’ve been meaning to say.

Time to take the photograph.

Time to go to the beach.

Time to tell someone you love them.

Time.

Loads of it.

Until, suddenly, you’re reminded that maybe you haven’t got quite as much as you thought.

And that changes things.

Because when you come close to dying, even for a moment, your brain has a rather brutal way of reminding you what you could have lost.

The people.

The memories.

The stupid little routines that you normally take for granted.

The mornings.

The cups of coffee.

The arguments about absolutely nothing.

The laughter.

The ordinary stuff.

All the things you barely notice because you assume they’ll still be there tomorrow.

Until you’re reminded that tomorrow isn’t actually guaranteed.

And that’s when life feels incredibly vivid.

Not because dying is somehow beautiful.

It isn’t.

It’s terrifying.

But because suddenly you understand the value of being alive.

You notice things.

You listen differently.

You look at people differently.

You realise that the things you thought were important probably weren’t.

And the things you thought were ordinary?

They were the important things all along.

I think that’s the strange thing about almost dying.

It doesn’t necessarily make you want to do something dramatic.

It can make you want to do something incredibly simple.

Stay.

Be here.

Have another cup of coffee.

Watch the sunset.

Take the photograph.

Hug the people you love.

Laugh at something stupid.

Sit beside someone without needing to say anything.

Just…

be alive.

Because every time I’ve come close to losing it, I’ve been reminded of exactly what I could have lost.

And afterwards, the world seems just a little bit brighter.

The air feels different.

The ordinary becomes extraordinary.

And for a little while, I stop rushing through life and actually notice that I’m here.

Maybe that’s the lesson.

You shouldn’t have to nearly die to appreciate being alive.

But sometimes it takes something that frightening to remind you just how precious the boring, everyday stuff really is.

The people.

The places.

The memories.

The moments nobody photographs.

The conversations nobody remembers.

The mornings you nearly sleep through.

The evenings you think are nothing special.

All of it.

Because one day, whether we like it or not, we will run out of tomorrows.

So perhaps the trick is to notice today while we’ve still got it.

To actually be here.

To look around.

To appreciate the ridiculous, messy, complicated thing that is being alive.

Because, as it turns out…

being alive is pretty bloody amazing.

Stay safe,

BC