A poor me approach is not helpful right now. Standing in the shadows, no longer an option. 

The truth is that Leaves of Love, an essential guide to ageing and dying well  is also a handbook for our troubled times. Ageing might soon be a luxury. The opportunty to slow down, think deep and plan our furture, something of the past.

Holding, loving, caressing the brow, cheek and hair of those we care for has never been more necessary.  Why waste one more minute before  coming  in close, being  real and honest and daring  to be who we are destined to be - what else is there. 

The ache of loss is all around us, the fear of fundamental chaos a groundswell movement. We are facing, not only our own finite existence but also that of all  we hold dear...  it is already happening. I grieve daily the empty skies, the lack of butterflies, the comparitive silence of the dawn. 

Europe is heating up. Change is inevitable. How we live, where we live, what we eat and the core values by which we live are all being questioned - and rightly so. Learning how to live on the point of the needle, dance the dance of life in all it's magnificence and then let it go, demands a certain type of alacrity -  a skill worth learning. 

Cultivating confidence to tend to those endings, and accompany our dying friends (the human and more than human) ,  in creative, compassionate  and fundamentally loving ways is another beautiful art worth re-kindling. We knew it once.

Waking up to the reality of climate change can also be an opportunity  to wake up to what really matters in our own lives. The grief of loss is already too much to bear - lets not add regret to that already heavy burden.