Hey everyone! I just wanted to remind you all to embrace every moment because our time here is limited. Life gets so busy, but it's crucial to remember that we're only here for a short while, so let's make the most of it! I'm incredibly grateful for the universe blessing me with a healthy body, a healthy mind, and everything else I need for a fulfilling life. Let's start with my arrival into this world on September 14, 2006. My early years are a bit hazy, but I've been told that I was quite mischievous and loved taking my toys apart. I was ecstatic to start school at around 4 or 5 years old and got involved in nursery school and karate. I've always been passionate about learning, and I'll never forget the pride I felt when I scored 98% on a final exam, ranking first in my entire class. However, that joy faded a bit when my name was omitted from the award ceremony list and my scorecard was tampered with. It was a tough reality check for me. Afterward, I was feeling a bit down, but my parents took me to a Gift/Toy Shop to buy me a gift to cheer me up. I was stubborn and insisted on receiving an award/gift from school on a stage, but they bought me an expensive gift anyway, which I didn't accept at the time. Now, it's one of my most cherished memories, and the toy is proudly displayed on my memory shelf. This experience toughened me up and taught me some invaluable life lessons. Since then, I've grown to achieve a 2nd Dan Black Belt in Karate and I'm currently pursuing higher studies. I'm sharing this story not for your sympathy, but to illustrate that life often gives us a reality check. Maintaining a positive mindset has been crucial for me. It's not about the circumstances or the situation, but what we take from them that truly matters. I've also discovered that physical exercise has been a secret to building mental strength. Just a favor to ask: if you make a decision, keep it to yourself until you've applied it in your life. Also, it's best not to give advice on matters that you haven't personally experienced or don't have expertise in. Ananda, or true happiness, is within each of us. Start your self-discovery journey and embrace it. If you'd like to hear more about my life events, feel free to ask!

In the middle of a verdant meadow lies a lake, Tranquil, serene; as crystal clear as a mirror. A breeze upon the pristine waters tiny ripples make, Sending praises aloft as the wavelets quietly quiver. A majestic oak proudly spreads its branches wide, Stands tall, strong, a welcome home for squirrels swift. Grateful they are for the leaves in which to hide. Prayers of love playful zephyrs joyously to heaven lift. Fluffy, small sparrows on the ground busily dart, Searching with keen gazes for strewn seeds. Each holds infallible faith in a tiny beating heart: Devoted to the Creator are all their humble deeds. Many-hued flowers sway and dance in utter delight, Their scent given freely, their colours a rainbow boon. I raise my hands in supplication, tears blind my sight. God's majesty and incomparable mercy cause me to swoon.

Joanne considered her options for supper: chicken soup with garlic bread, beef vegetable casserole with fluffy white rice, or some crumbed chicken fillet filled with pepper sauce? The thirty-two-year old college lecturer rolled her eyes heavenward, struggling to decide what to eat. “Nick!” she called to her nine-year-old son watching Jurassic World: Dominion on Netflix in the bedroom they shared. “What would you like for dinner tonight, buddy?” “What are the choices, Mom?” Nick asked as he walked into their tiny but neat kitchen. Joanne and Nick were living in a one-bedroom separate entrance since her divorce three years ago. Kevin, her ex-husband, had run up such huge debts that they couldn't continue staying in the house they had been renting. Once Kevin had lost his job, his behavior had changed. He became frustrated, started drinking too much, and developed a truly tempestuous temper. It was crystal clear to Joanne that their marriage was doomed. Divorce seemed the best route for her and Nick. Kevin had disappeared out of their lives after the divorce had been finalized as if he had only been a figment of their imagination. Nick had long ago stopped to ask after his father. “Well,” Joanne said, “we've got three leftover choices,” she said, listing the three dishes. During the Christmas season, Joanne tended to cook a number of dishes which she could warm up, saving her from having to cook every night. They often had a surplus of food though, forcing Joanne to either give away whatever they hadn't eaten to street beggars, or discarding the food. “Hmm, those are really hard choices, Mom,” Nick complained. “I know, honey, but choose one, please.” “Actually, I'm not all that hungry tonight. Can't I just have some milk and cookies, please?” Nick asked pleadingly. Before Joanne could answer him though, her cell phone rang. She was surprised to see that the caller was Simon, one of the senior students she was mentoring. He was a polite nineteen-year-old of whom Joanne was quite fond. “Simon, what a nice surprise to hear from you,” Joanne said, simultaneously nodding at Nick to let him know he could have his milk and cookies. “I'm really sorry to bother you this late, Miss Harper, but I wanted to ask you for something,” Simon apologized. “Nonsense. It hasn't even gone eight yet. What can I do for you?” Joanne asked. She intuited that Simon was embarrassed about whatever it was he needed, so she waited patiently for him to formulate his request. Clearing his throat a few times, Simon finally said, “I'm in a bit of a fix tonight, Miss. I feel truly bad to turn to you for help, but I didn't know who else to ask.” Joanne remembered that Simon lived on his own in a rented room in a house shared by other students. She was also keenly aware of his financial difficulties, thus she expected him to ask her for some money or a loan. What he asked for brought her nearly to tears. “Miss, do you have some food for me, please? I'm really hungry tonight. The only thing I've had all day was a bowl of cereal and a cup of tea this morning. If you don't have anything, it's fine. I'm very sorry to bother you, Miss.” Unbidden, an image of her stocked fridge and the dinner options she and Nick were deciding on swam into her consciousness. A well of deep shame opened up in the kind woman's heart; her motherly instinct to nurture set her soul ablaze with contrition for having taken for granted that others had three meals a day as she did. “Say no more, Simon. Please, come over right now. I have more than enough food. Have supper with me and my son and I'll pack some leftovers for you to take home as well,” she immediately said. There was a long silence on the other end of the line, making Joanne wonder if Simon had ended the call. “Simon, are you still there?” she asked just as she heard soft sobs coming over the line. Her heart broke anew; she realized that Simon was weeping. “Miss, you have no idea how much this means to me. I can't thank you enough, Mom,” Simon said, not realizing he had referred to Joanne as ‘Mom'. Simon's slip of the tongue stunned Joanne. Heroically, she collected her scattered thoughts, stilling her heaving heart. “I should be the one thanking you, Simon,” she said, her soul drenched in pure gratitude. Image: Marcos Paulo Prado (www.unsplash.com)

Being grateful is hard. Living through the past twenty months, living full stop, is just... A lot. And at the same time nothing. Unemployment. Words like inflation, depression, deficit, budget cuts, pulling up your boot straps... teaching a man to fish. All of these things that add up to me basically never leaving my dads house like. Ever. Boredom is the absolute worst. When nothing happens. When days pass spent bundled in blankets surrounded by sweet wrappers with the sound of the latest hit Netflix show buzzing in my ears as my eyes flicker shut. Weeks can pass like this. It can be hard to stay grounded. It can be really hard sometimes to remember that there is still a lot of good. And a lot to be grateful for. I did a positive psychology course a couple of years ago in my quest to find out what it is, if anything, that I might be interested in.(Historically I've struggled with finding direction a lot.) One of my main takeaways from the course was to practice being grateful for stuff. To sit down at the end of each day and reflect on something I feel good about. Something that fills me with a sense of gratitude and well being. And to write it out. The writing part is important. There's something about holding the pen in your hand, letting the feelings out through the ink and pen scratchings. I don't do that. What I do is every now and again when I feel. Well... Pissed is probably the right word for it. Fuming would also do. When I'm feeling bad and I'm aware enough to actually do something about it instead of watching more TV I'll write a list. I'll head it 'gratitude list' and I'll write twenty or thirty things that are good about my life. And the pen doesn't even get a look anymore. It's all on a notepad on my phone. And it's rushed. (Sure putting that positive psychology knowhow to work.) when I'm struggling sometimes it might start off with something like 'Have roof over my head' and work my way out to other things more personal to me. My dad's nearly always on there, since he was diagnosed with cancer at the end of last year. A lot of the time there's ice cream. Here is the list I wrote today, to keep me grounded. Gratitude list 20/10/2021: 1.Never having to share my bedroom 2.Having privacy/space when I want it 3.Having my own bookcase (with nearly 100 books) 4.Always having books in the house growing up 5.Knowing how to read 6.Being read to by my parents when I was a kid 7.Having a good head on my shoulders 8.Getting to spend quality time with my dad and brother today 9.Having Ice cream in the freezer 10.Having savings 11.Having spare cash 12.The support my dad has recieved since being diagnosed 13.Mum checking up on me 14.How attracted my fiancee is to me 15.My time at CCAD 16.Getting this time with dad 17.My hair 18.The sparrows that live in the roof nextdoor. Bit of an eclectic one today (and there's that ice cream as predicted) and I fell short of the twenty I usually manage, but these are the things that got me through today. And some of them might sound silly but they matter to me. Reading is a big one. My life has always had stories in it. I'm in love with fiction. When I was a teenager I could devour whole books in a day. Get lost somewhere I actually want to be lost in. I fell out of love with reading for a while there, a period of four or five years, starting when I went to art college. I would try to read and I would struggle though ten pages or so before putting the book down. It just wasn't happening for me. I am so grateful that I have been able to find my way back to fiction and that I was led there in the first place when I was small. Books have been a good friend throughout the pandemic. My current companion is Good Omens (one I was read as a kid.My mum has good taste in stories) and it's as good as the first time I read it. Wracking my brains for something, even something small, that gets me through the day gets me though the day. And there have been so many days that have been hard to get through lately. It doesn't feel like it will end. But as long as there's sunshine, cute animal videos and £1 bars of chocolate I will have something to smile about, even if that smile is smaller some days than others. And I can carry them around in my pocket too and look them up on my phone whenever I need reminding that life isn't too bad, even when it's really bad.

Stop what you're doing. Please. Whatever it is, I need you to stop for a moment, and focus. Pause your music, put your food to the side, and just stop. It may sound like an odd request, but I need you to focus on your surroundings. To feel the texture of your clothes against your skin. Is the fabric soft? Rough? Pay attention to the air as it brushes against your lips and rushes into your mouth and lungs; feel your chest collapse when you breathe out seconds later. I need you to look up and pay attention to the details of the room you're in. Is it light? Dark? Colorful or dull or some combination of the two? Are you cold, or are you melting in the summer heat? Can you smell rain? I need you to feel your pulse. Can you feel your heartbeat? Good. I need you to hold your hand for a few seconds and feel the warmth of your skin—let your thumb drag against the top of your knuckles. What is that like? Had you forgotten what the feeling of your own flesh felt like? No? Okay, you can continue as you were. Resume your music, take another bite of your snack. I'm done asking you to actively participate. ...You're curious as to why I asked you to do these things, aren't you. Well, once upon a time, when I was very much a young child, I read a book where it was revealed that a minor character had been trapped in a book for fifty years. At the time, I hadn't paid much attention to it—the characters never lingered on that fact, not even the boy in question, so there was no reason for me to give it any mind. It certainly didn't help that the character was a villain in the story, one who did terrible, awful things, whom I was not supposed to sympathize with. It was never made into a big deal, so I forgot it. It was only when I reread that book for what was probably the sixth or seventh time that I actually thought through the implications of such a thing. Fifty years. What that it be like? To be stuck in a book for so long? I couldn't help but think it might be comparable to a box. A small, tiny box, with no light. Worse yet, you can't touch anything, can't feel anything. A normal box, at least, would allow you to feel the walls around you. You might hear the sounds made by anything outside the box, but this isn't a normal box. This box is magic, remember, which means you can't see anything, you can't feel anything. I might go as far as saying that even something as simple and normal as breathing might be impossible. The complete and utter lack of anything would be more than enough to drive one mad after only spending a week in such a box. But fifty years? As someone who hasn't lived to be half of that yet, this is entirely beyond my realm of comprehension. It's a lesson in gratitude, though it might not look like it at first. It's why I began to put myself through that little exercise I asked you to do earlier. If you were to go fifty years without so much as a single breath, with nothing but your own thoughts for company...well, I don't think either of us want to know what that looks like. We rely on our sight, our hearing, our touch, everything, so much so I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to go without them. One or two, yes, but to lose all of them? To be stuck not only blind and deaf, but to be so lost there is absolutely nothing that will let you orient yourself? To be stuck in darkness without the pulse of your own heartbeat there to steady you? Truly, sensory deprivation is one of the worst tortures humanity could devise for itself. But...as awful as it is, that's what makes me grateful—the fact that I still have this. That I can take any moment out of the day and look around myself, hold onto the seconds as they slip by and comfort myself with the fact that I can still feel my sweater as it slides against my skin. I can still smell the laundry detergent that lingers in the threads of the fabric. I can hear my roommates bickering in the kitchen about who does the dishes and who picks the music. I can admire the way the light refracts through my window and pours tiny rainbows across the walls. It's odd, how much this tiny thought about a random character actually ended up changing my life so much. I've picked up another language —one that I can speak with my hands— and in doing so I've learned so much about people who live without their hearing. I've done enough research on the use of solitary confinement in prison systems and the negative effects it has on a person that I should probably just write my next essay on that. I wake up just about every day thrilled with that I still have as much as I do, and it encourages me to do my best. So, I was hoping that this lesson —as dark and terrifying as it might be at first glance— might help you, too. The world is a beautiful, beautiful, place, and I find it and all of its many gifts to be just so amazing. I think it's important we appreciate every little detail, no matter how small, for as long as we can.

My friend, my first love, my joy, my everything. I would have never accepted the fact that a woman would mean so much to mean. Allow me to introduce to you a woman who has been my back bone for a very long time. If you like the person i have become, then very big thank you should be her portion. I know she deserves more than thank but there is nothing in this world to compensate her effort better than a grateful heart. She sacrificed a lot than i could ever imagine. Some of these sacrifices, i have seen whiles i am yet to discover the rest. Through my victories, my desperate times, i resort to no one else but this amazing woman. I have gotten angry with some of your principles, but here I am in a whole different environment using and teaching your principles like i created them. There is no better name to call her then Mother, your cuddle kept me warm as a baby even though you were cold. Your words comfort me in times of trouble. And your principles serves as the light to my path as i journey up to a higher height. Thank you for the love and compassion. This has been critical to my growth. You are my inspiration, you stood strong during the storms. Even though I saw your scars, you kept a smiling face and kept assuring me, everything will be alright. I still wonder how you did it but hey, I love you than you could ever imagine. From your offspring.