Just for Today

After more than two months of cycling 2000 kilometres from the UK to Norway, I returned to London overwhelmed by the thought of putting my life back together. Finding somewhere to live. Rebuilding the studio. Somehow returning to a normal life.

My wonderful friend Su, who has given me somewhere to stay while I find my feet again, gave me a few words on a piece of paper.

At the top were three words:

Just for Today

The words inside offer a series of small promises. To live through this day only. To accept what is. To strengthen my mind. To do something kind without needing to be seen doing it. To resist hurry and indecision. To spend a little time alone. Not to be afraid.

I keep it beside my bed and it is the first thing I read every morning.

It is terrifying to try to solve your whole life at once.

Where will I live?

What will happen?

What if my plans fail?

What happens to my life?

What comes next?

A single challenging moment becomes an imagined lifetime of suffering.

Suddenly, today disappears beneath the weight of every tomorrow I have imagined.

I suspect I am not alone in this.

There are days when we need five-year plans, ambitious dreams and the courage to begin a journey towards a destination we cannot yet see.

And there are days when thinking about the whole journey makes taking the next step feel impossible.

On those days, courage has a different scale.

Perhaps I do not need to walk my whole life in one step.

Perhaps I only need to begin with today.

The sun does not rise carrying the burden of tomorrow

It rises into this morning.

That is all.

Perhaps we might learn something from it.

All life begins and everything radiates from one body.

One sun.

One morning.

One day.

Here it is.

One today.

Just for today.

Just this one.

Tomorrow can wait.

And perhaps that is enough.