How do you love life?

I’m sitting at my desk after a few memorable days coaching in the UK, staring out of the window, watching people and dogs and birds go by, doing their thing, oblivious to this amateur philosopher checking them out.

I feel tired but extremely satisfied, empty and full at the same time.

There are three emails from people I don’t know waiting to be answered, all about how to get a steady emotional state, no ups and downs, just safe and predictable happiness from this day to eternity.

Most people would really like it that way (or at least they think so).

Life as an exclamation mark.

Like constantly hibernating in a fairytale supermarket, in the happy aisle, shoving bright pink and yellow boxes in your trolley every single day.

I have been looking for that for a long, long, loooooong time.

The magic pill.

The spell that takes away the pain before it even happens.

The safe zone, where the sun always shines and everybody’s smiling and people tip their hat.

But I only wanted that because I was so utterly confused.

I deeply longed for a changeless and shiny life because it felt like I was drowning all the time.

I just wanted the opposite, I just wanted to breathe again.

Until I found out there’s something way more beautiful and fulfilling and exciting than that.

It’s not just feeling the stuff you like or appreciate: it’s feeling EVERY-FUCKING-THING because you’ll be okay no matter what.

And that’s what I will tell the three people who emailed me.

There’s no such thing as steady bliss in the human experience.

The mind is built to generate problems and disasters and horror scenarios.

It’s not really a big deal, because it’s not personal.

And it IS a big deal, because it spices up our experience.

It’s all we have to know and explore the world, and it’s amazingly rich.

So how do you love life?

I guess you don’t, not as a deliberate activity.

You simply realize that it loves you.