It’s been a pretty quiet month on this space. I’ve been hanging out offline with my usual group of compadres, and honestly nothing really exciting has transpired or conspired to happen. Sure there were plenty of experiences that might seem exciting: visiting the new Robuchon joint, eating morbradbof again, macaroon decorating, trying pole and loving it, a five hour karaoke session, planning the next holiday.  Perhaps I may look back on this phase one day, far into the future and reminisce and remember it as a ‘heady’ time, maybe the same way baby boomers today might think about Studio 54.

But I’m still waiting, still holding out for something greater to happen. Some big bang that suddenly hits, something definitive that will tell me what my purpose in life is.

what if, in choosing to practise faith and perseverance and to  live each day as it comes, you stop caring or even daring to dream about bigger things in life, things that matter, and things that you know mean more than you could ever imagine? What happens when you keep believing something will come forth and in the end nothing does? How can life be reduced thus?