I was stood under the departure boards at Euston recently, ahead of getting a train up to Manchester.
Looking around, everyone looked tense and impatient. Waiting to find out what platform their trains would be leaving from seemed like “dead time”, something they would skip if they could.
And this is how most of us live our lives, rushing to get to a more important future moment.
And in doing so that is exactly how we end up wishing our lives away.
We chase the future in the misguided belief that we will eventually ‘arrive’, but it’s like running after the horizon. The promised land never actually gets any closer, but we gradually lose energy and enthusiasm in the process.
There’s something we rarely acknowledge: the eventual destination is the same for all of us. The moment when none of this is accessible - no sights, no sounds, no feelings - is coming sooner than we tend to think. And in the meantime, life is going to be messy.
Looking around the main concourse at Euston that day, I marvelled at what was actually a remarkable scene. Hundreds of people, birds diving for scraps, the messy, random choreography of a crowded station.
It struck me as remarkable that there was something and not nothing.
And this is what we miss by continually striving: the miracle of existence itself. Life is full of ups and downs, but even the most difficult moments still have a beauty to them.
about this very topic. Letting go of becoming, and really embracing being - right here and now. You can listen here.I would be very grateful if you could listen and share - and even write a review if you could spare the time - and then take a moment to look around and see the world around in a fresh light: as the miracle that it is… just like the miracle that you are!
I so enjoyed the conversation , thank you
Great article mate and something I found post hospital. Especially if you just look up from your phone, reframe the experience, even rush hour in Euston statin can be a beautiful gift.