This much I know

 

 

Except that quite possibly I don’t. The phrase echoes in my head as I bath, drink coffee and burn toast and remind myself that I live in uncertainty about many many things, from the art of toast making to the afterlife. On Mondays my mind only wakes up after 9am, even when I wake brimming over with sober energy and zest for the week ahead.

 

Galvanised into productive work this morning after reading the English philosopher AC Greyling:

‘A human lifespan is less than a thousand months long. You want to make some time to think how to live it.’

 

Yikes! Less than one thousand months! And so much already passed in drunken oblivion. Let me go and put on a CD of Edith Piaf singing ‘Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien’ at once. No, I regret nothing. But it was not time well spent, sadly.

Nevertheless my pups are dancing on their hind legs again and my housemate is bossy boots and my neighbour is chasing an escaped guinea pig down the road in his pyjamas. Run Flossie, run! The garden is gorgeous with flowering strelitzias and white arum lilies.

And it is wonderful to be sober now, to be growing and exploring and grieving and allowing myself to be comforted. This much I do know.