We spend so much time trying to become aware, to understand, to figure things out, to know, to make things clear. And all this time, Living Life is quietly, silently here. It simply is. So little understood. Unexplained and unknown. Not enlightened at all. Alive. Simply alive. It waits. It waits for us to stop observing it and start living it. It waits for us to stop trying to understand love and allow it to happen. It waits for us to stop explaining our feelings and allow them to move through the body. It waits for us to stop searching for ourselves and discover: we are already here. Breathing. Feeling. Loving. Living. What an ironic paradox. How much we had to become aware of, understand, figure out, learn, and clarify. How much we had to live through, suffer and experience just to one day see Living Life in all its simplicity. In the simplicity of this day. A soft mattress embracing my tired body at night. Fresh air filling my lungs and refreshing my body and soul. My child, whose embrace brings me back to life. The person I love, who simply is. Who holds me when I am crying in utter despair, tormenting myself for my own imperfections. My mother. Her eyes. Her small, quiet message in the morning: “Good morning, Nastenka. How are you?” There is this simple day. And there is me, here, inside this day. Me, who received this message. Me, who felt these arms around me. Me, who wanted to write about it. Me. I am alive. And while I am alive, I can see all of this. I can experience it. I can feel it. I can write about it. How precious it is — simply to wake up in the morning. To hold someone close, someone you love. To call your mother. To watch the flame of a candle. To feel warm tea moving through your body. How precious it is. How priceless. This life. In every one of us. This life, so easy to overlook. That simplicity we somehow lost in the middle of an ordinary, grey, hurried day. How infinitely warm. My hands have never felt this warm. My eyes have never wept so deeply at the sheer simplicity of it all. And in everyone I see, there is this Living Life. It looks at me through your eyes. I come closer and see my own reflection in them. I see myself. When I hold you, I hold myself. Through these words, you and I meet. In the heart. I see you, and you see me. And we do not need to observe, explain, understand, or hold on. We are alive. We are living this Living Life. Living. And it seems as though nothing extraordinary is happening. And that is exactly why everything is happening. Living Life. In the simplicity of this ordinary day. avec le Cœur, Anastasia