You look tired

You know when you have a bit on your plate at work, even more on your plate at home and you didn’t sleep particularly well the night before? You’re about to head to dinner with your friends or the family  and to be honest, you’re kind of dreading it. Not because you don’t like your family… (hey, mum – love you)… But because without fail you know some well meaning relative is going to sigh, stare at you a moment and say…

“Gosh, You look tired”

Normally you’d launch back with, “Oh really Aunt Margaret? Tired?

“As tired as that weird pineapple casserole recipe you’ve been inflicting on us since 1987?” But you’re too tired. So you grimace politely and say “Oh, just got a lot on, you know how it is. Pass the carrots?”

The thing is, these check-ins from people we only see every so often can be really useful. Why?

Because when you’re in the thick of ongoing stress; you’re not always the best judge of how you’re tracking. You feel ok, until suddenly you don’t… to borrow a nature analogy, when you’re getting close to burnout, it can be hard to see the forest from the trees.

So next time Aunt Margaret winds you up about those bags under your eyes, maybe take it as a sign to check in with yourself and lock in some time to switch off and reset. So, if you’re planing to take some time off over the summer, remember that work can wait; that it’s not just your phone you need to recharge regularly and, practice being really present.

Back to nature

We’ve seen a lot of chat about the end of WFH recently. Big firms and corporates are calling staff back to the office five days a week left, right and centre, and certain billionaires who will remain nameless have gone so far as to call it morally dubious and suggest people ‘get off their high-horse’.

Well…chuck us on a unicorn riding through the clouds because I think that’s nonsense!

Working flexibly isn’t just about those not-showering-until-3pm-wearing-partner’s-jumper-of-dubious-cleanliness-standards-all-day-might-be-Tuesday’s-spaghetti-on-the-front-ah-well kinda vibes. It’s actually about mental flexibility too.

Creativity comes in all shapes and forms, whether you’re developing a strategy, designing a new concept or just thinking up some copy to write in a Friday newsletter that’s already late to go out and you’re sitting in bed trying to come up with ideas. And, more often than not, it’s not sitting under harsh fluorescent light in a large, open yet crowded space in the city that’ll help the process.

Where’s one of the best places to free your mind and boost your creative / strategic thinking? Well, it’s nature. Studies have shown that exposure to nature is associated with improved attention, capacity to switch from one task to another, memory and focus skills, and can boost creative problem solving by up to 50%. There’s a reason folks like Bill Gates gets there once a year to think, Steve Jobs went for a hike before every big decision, and countless artists, writers and musicians head off the grid as part of their creative process.

How about having scheduling regular “Thinking Time” – a couple of hours, in a calming green space, to think, plan, work and stroll around with nothing but the birds and the wind for company.

And, if you’re in a creative rut (it happens to the best of us!) here are some tips to get your groove back–7CjHbkw9L3aSDQ&utm_content=260812601&utm_source=hs_email

Or, try one of these books to help you re-connect with the world around you–UnSG_IaSxa-Ujw7LqRtS88DinEOwrr-jIzwh6NUGDiI7F8FyZFA3dB8HRw-GvMHMg8V9fB7I9ztZwYMZseMmJGc-zGg&utm_content=260812601&utm_source=hs_email


A zest for life

Could having hope, zest and self-regulation help you lead a healthier and more fulfilling life? A new scientific study says yes.

Researchers analysed over 60,000 respondents from 159 countries and found that character strengths and personality traits are favourably associated with positive health-related quality of life outcomes, health behaviors, purpose, and lead to lower disease risk. These traits included curiosity, perspective, spirituality, humility and appreciation of beauty.

Over 24 personality traits were studied, and the authors found that forgiveness, gratitude, honesty, hope, love, perseverance, prudence, emotional self-regulation, and zest were favourably associated with healthier outcomes, such as living a longer and more fulfilled life. Humour was associated with an increased probability of insufficient rest or sleep and teamwork, with a decreased risk of feeling sad, blue, and depressed.

Above all, researchers noted that zest was the character strength that emerged most often in relation to positive health outcomes. Described as “an enthusiasm and energy toward life”, and past studies have linked this trait to a reduced risk of depression and to positive health habits like healthy eating.

“Our findings suggested that maintaining a well-rounded health lifestyle coincides with energy and enthusiasm for life and health (zest), an attitude of discipline and resistance to temptations (self-regulation), feeling and expressing a sense of thankfulness in life and to others (gratitude), and optimistic thinking and confidence that goals can be reached (hope),” author Dorota Weziak-Bialowolska said of the findings. “These might be viewed as primary character strengths for health outcomes and behaviors.”

If there was a reason to be cheerful, that’s certainly it.

The importance of weak ties

While our bonds with friends and family are integral to our wellbeing, these little interactions between strangers are important too, it turns out.  A recent US study suggests that a diversity of social interactions, including more “weak ties”, can result in better life satisfaction. Harvard researchers found that people can discuss important topics with “lower stakes” connections that are not close friends or family members.

I don’t doubt it for a second. I’m relatively untethered when it comes to weak ties. Originally coming from the North of England where everyone talks to everyone (coupled with having a somewhat nosey disposition!) I still find the cooler, more reserved South difficult to navigate. But, I think my world is all the richer for it.

But there are moments that transcend that for me. The barista that beams at me so hard her eyes disappear as we chat about the weather while she prepares my coffee. Cooing over a cute dog while the owner basks in parental pride. Even the awkward pas-de-deux you do on the footpath – left, then right, then left – as you try to avoid colliding with someone walking in front of you, exchanging sheepish grins.

If ever we realised the value of interactions with others, it was during lockdown. The solitude weighed heavily on me, as it did with so many others. Whilst I desperately missed my friends, I also found myself yearning for those inconsequential conversations you have with shop assistants, baristas and, those random conversations you have with complete strangers you bump into – literally sometimes!  After a few weeks, I wondered whether my Deliveroo drivers were backing away from my door due to the two-metre rule or my clear desire to engage them in a conversation about the traffic as my food cooled.

“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers,” Blanche DuBois breathes at the end of A Streetcar Named Desire. Poor, tragic Blanche should have abandoned that philosophy long ago, given the dearth of kindness she had encountered. In the real world, most of us were brought up with the mantra “never talk to strangers”, a sensible warning for a child, but one that sadly sticks with many of us into adulthood. Sure, we shouldn’t tell our life stories to every person we sit next to at a bus stop, but I’m trying my best to at least flash a smile, with mixed results.

And sometimes, it’s our encounters with strangers that can be the most rewarding, or even change the course of our lives. On a recent workshop with one of my best friends (who incidentally was a weak tie but has subsequently become a very firm fixture in my life), I found myself thrown together with five other women. They were complete strangers, but we quickly found ourselves confessing and discussing things we wouldn’t with our friends and family. I suppose with some topics you don’t want to be a burden to loved ones or repeat yourself ad nauseam. The stakes are somehow lower with a “weak tie”, the judgement perhaps less, and they often offer a fresh perspective. I returned home with a newfound sense of solace and strength. And a realisation – that sometimes, weak ties may evolve into strong ones.


Spring has finally sprung!

It has felt like a very long winter. We endured the wettest March for 40 years after weeks of deep snow and frost in January and February. The gloom set in last November and has barely lifted: drawing the curtains of a morning has been to welcome another day of flat, grey skies.

And yet, the whispers of spring are upon us. Listen, and you’ll hear the brave tremor of birdsong. Our streets are filling with blossom – blackthorn first, but also the deepening hues of cherry and quince trees. The windier days scatter the petals on the wet pavements: nature’s confetti. And we celebrate longer days now the clocks have sprung forward. Head to the park before dinner and you’ll notice a shift: people out walking their dogs, or letting their children burn off energy before bathtime. How we’ve needed this blast of sunshine, how long we’ve waited for it. It feels, finally, like something new is afoot.

Spring has long been associated with a time of renewal. In Japan, where hanami, or the celebration of cherry blossom, is a national pastime, the academic year begins in April: generations of children have been photographed in box-fresh school uniform against candyfloss-like trees. From Passover to Nowruz, the Iranian New Year, many religions have built the return of spring into their calendar. Reach back into Pagan tradition and you’ll find three separate spring celebrations: Imbolc, in early February, to acknowledge the first lightening of winter; Ostara with the vernal equinox, when the length of both day and night are the same and, later, Beltane, heralding May’s abundance and that of the summer to come. The English word for Easter comes from either the Latin word for dawn (aurora), as one theory goes, or from the Anglo-Saxon goddess of spring and fertility (Ostara, also known as Ēostre), according to another.

Whatever belief system you ascribe to, it’s near-impossible to avoid the sense of positivity and new life that creeps in around the edges of the everyday at this time of year. Crocuses smother verges in purple and saffron-yellow, daffodils jaunt up roadsides and the lawns of housing estates. We are caught out by the sunshine and end up having to carry our coats.

It also provides a second chance, after the hype of new year, to take stock, make changes and try a more gentle kind of reset. It’s easier, after all, to fulfil a resolution to go running or play tennis when there are more hours of daylight and the weather is kinder.

Outside, the world is waking up. Whether you have a green space to tend to or not, there’s plenty to bear witness to. Look for the bright green of new leaves on the skeletons of trees and the fattening of flower buds. Keep an eye out for more frenzied activity among the birds, who will be mating, nesting and feeding as the breeding season kicks off. Even the most overlooked early wildflowers will be providing vital nectar for bees.

Easter gives us a moment to relish these things. Four long days with far less pressure than Christmas but an undeniable reason to celebrate. In gathering our loved ones, decking the table with spring flowers – a handful of daffs will do – and buttering a hot cross bun, we follow traditions that have been forged over centuries.

Five Easter resolutions to make this weekend

Get outside

The most obvious of springtime resolutions, but one of the most powerful: shed some layers and spend time outdoors. A 2019 study of more than 19,000 people published in the journal Scientific Reports found that spending two hours a week in nature had a significant positive effect on health and wellbeing. Another study by King’s College London found that hearing birdsong has a positive impact on mental health. Increased exposure to sunshine and natural light also increases your Vitamin D intake, which is linked to improved mood.

Reset your circadian rhythm

Sleep suffers in winter and we feel more lethargic when sunshine is in short supply. Light exposure affects our circadian rhythm (our inbuilt body clock), so if you’ve been feeling sluggish or not well rested, use spring to reset. Start by picking the time you need to wake up and moving it 20 minutes earlier each day to reach your goal, and inching your bedtime earlier each day over the course of a week so you get the sleep you need. Waking up and going to sleep at the same time each day is key for keeping your circadian rhythm in check, says Dr Guy Meadows, clinical director of the Sleep School. A dose of natural light soon after you wake up will help you feel more alert (studies have shown that 30 minutes of light exposure in the morning improves your memory and reaction times) and help you sleep better the following night.

Conduct a “joy audit”

While New Year’s resolutions are often about restriction and abstention, spring is the time to focus on “aspirations, rather than resolutions,” says Dr Marianne Trent, a clinical psychologist. She suggests a “joy audit” to get fully into the spirit of spring, “because life is supposed to be at least reasonably enjoyable,” she says. “Think about where you’re getting joy from: family, your intimate life, work, leisure pursuits, and whether they’re as full as you might want them to be … and if there are one or two areas that are lagging behind, are there tweaks you could make?”

Try “habit stacking”

There’s probably a reason those New Year’s resolutions always seem to fall by the wayside – we often try to do too much all at once. Trent advises clients to “habit stack”: essentially breaking down goals into bite-size chunks and focusing on small, achievable steps in the right direction.

Consider your purpose

Spring has always signified rebirth and renewal; the first signs of spring feel particularly refreshing this year after a long, bleak winter. Harness the power of spring, with the increased motivation and renewed optimism that comes with it, to consider the meaning of life and what you want from it over the coming season.

How to fail…..and keep failing!

We live in a culture where failure is seen as something to be avoided at all costs. But just as children should get chickenpox and be allowed to play in mud so a bit of bacteria won’t harm them later on, we must experience small failures to ready ourselves for the big stuff that can, and definitely will, go wrong.

Frankly, it’s a kindness to fail now. I’ve seen so many people – who have only ever known a charmed, secure, smoothly run life – go into full meltdown the moment even the tiniest thing has gone awry. Failure is not only inevitable, it’s essential.

The only true failure is not to learn from it. Failure is the most powerful way to learn lessons, evaluate what it is you really do and don’t want, and feel the incomparable sense of self-confidence in knowing you can pick yourself up off the floor, out of tear-sodden pyjamas and back into the world, harder and stronger than before.

There’s no use telling yourself never to fail, so see failure as an opportunity to make things right. It’s a crucial life skill.

Some are broken by failure and others make the best of it. A quick inventory of my closest friends demonstrates that I can only truly be close to the latter type. All have messed up, made the wrong decisions to dire consequences or just had really bad luck.

But none of us has let it define us; we’ve all picked ourselves back up and vowed to do differently next time failure comes around – because we know it always will.

Fear of failure is far more debilitating than failure itself. Trying to avoid failing stops us from succeeding, because no worthwhile success comes without risk. It’s invariably a case of the bigger the reward, the scarier the task. In denying ourselves the opportunity to fail, we’re actually stopping ourselves from experiencing the pure, undiluted joy of true success. Not to take the plunge is the biggest failure of all because we only regret the things we didn’t do, not those we did.

Full-time failures are really tedious company. There is no one duller than a person who wangs on about life having dealt them a cruel hand. Seriously, these people are impossibly draining and so comfortable at their own pity party that repeat failure is not only a foregone conclusion, but also a lazy way of never aiming for success. Don’t be that person.

Some failure is inevitable, but it’s never the beginning and end of your story unless you allow it to be.

“I have no regrets” is a phrase one hears often in everyday life, and I am generally mistrustful of anyone who lives theirs without ever admitting they wish they’d made another call. Who has lived such a flawless life that they don’t wish they’d done something differently? It’s the sort of throwaway cliché, much like “everything happens for a reason” (no it doesn’t, shush), spoken by people looking to live with as little personal responsibility and insight as possible.

My own regrets are infinite – from choosing to stay in a job way longer than I should have as it was a toxic environment, to making bad choices because I was an idiot, ignorant, young or unthinking. But my self-judgement over each of them has been essential to my principles and self-awareness thereafter.

Regrets are important in changing future behaviour and I’m not convinced anything does so as powerfully. They prompt you to do better next time, however insignificant they are in the broader scheme.

Instead of refusing to look backwards and harping on about living with “zero regrets”, we should give our regrets room for processing, without allowing them to overcome us.

Because ultimately, regrets should have a shelf life. Left to fester, they damage soul and body, taking away more than they bestow. There comes a point, after learning from our mistakes, when we must draw a line in the sand, forgive ourselves, pledge to do better and refuse to let life be governed by the past.

Happiness is a group effort

Most people view emotions as existing primarily or even exclusively in their heads. Happiness is considered a state of mind; melancholy is a potential warning sign of mental illness. But the reality is that emotions are inherently social: They’re woven through our interactions.

Research has found that people laugh five times as often when they’re with others as when they’re alone. Even exchanging pleasantries with a stranger on a train is enough to spark joy. That’s not to say you can’t find delight in watching a show on Netflix. The problem is that bingeing is an individual pastime. Peak happiness lies mostly in collective activity.

We find our greatest bliss in moments of collective effervescence. It’s a concept coined in the early 20th century by the pioneering sociologist Émile Durkheim to describe the sense of energy and harmony people feel when they come together in a group around a shared purpose. Collective effervescence is the synchrony you feel when you slide into rhythm with friends on a dance floor, join teammates for a kick about,  do downward dogs with likeminded souls on your yoga mat!!

Collective effervescence happens when joie de vivre spreads through a group. Before Covid, research showed that more than three-quarters of people found collective effervescence at least once a week and almost a third experienced it at least once a day. They felt it when they sang in choruses and ran in races, and in quieter moments of connection at coffee shops and in yoga classes.

Emotions are like contagious diseases: They can spread from person to person. “Emotional contagion is when we are literally infected with other people’s emotions,” Sigal Barsade, a management professor and a leading researcher on the topic, has explained. “In almost all of our studies, what we have found is that people don’t realize it’s happening.”

When the pandemic began in 2020, the first negative emotion to spread was fear. Waves of panic crashed through communities, compelling people to purify packages and hoard hand sanitizer. As too many people lost loved ones, too many others lost jobs and everyone lost some semblance of normal life. The number of adults with symptoms of depression or anxiety spiked from one in 10 to about four in 10.

And there’s reason to believe these symptoms haven’t been caused only by the crisis itself — they’ve actually been transferred from person to person. Studies show that if your spouse, your family member or your roommate develops depression, you’re at heightened risk for it. And contagion isn’t limited to face-to-face interaction: Emotions can spread through social media posts and text messages, too.

Psychologists find that in cultures where people pursue happiness individually, they may actually become lonelier. But in cultures where they pursue happiness socially — through connecting, caring and contributing — people appear to be more likely to gain well-being.

The American Declaration of Independence promised unalienable rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. If we want that pursuit to bring us bliss, it may be time to create a Declaration of Interdependence. You can feel depressed and anxious alone, but it’s rare to laugh alone or love alone. Joy shared is joy sustained.


Embrace that warm and fuzzy feeling

This time of year can be grim; cold, dark days and long evenings. Christmas is a distant memory and spring is just that bit too far ahead to get excited about. Time to embrace your warm fuzzies.

Warm fuzzies is a term coined in the late 1960s by the psychotherapist Claude Steiner, to describe positive feelings given out by people.

Steiner was an early proponent of Transactional Analysis, which is a form of psychotherapy that looks at the way people interact. Steiner believed that the more positively children were treated, the more positively they went through life, and vice versa.

To show this, he wrote a children’s book called A Warm Fuzzy Tale, about a magic world where people have bags of warm fuzzies that they hand out to make others happy. But along comes a witch, who is disgruntled that people aren’t using her potions because they’re all so content. She convinces a child that the warm fuzzies are limited in supply and should not be given away. The witch tells the child to save their warm fuzzies by exchanging “cold pricklies” instead, which do exactly as they say on the tin. Soon her warning spreads, and everyone begins handing out cold pricklies, until they are all thoroughly miserable (except for the witch).

The book ends by pointing out that warm fuzzies are actually endless and free to give away – they exist (ration-free) inside all of us. The story’s moral is that the more we give out warm fuzzies, the more we will receive them back – and, unfortunately, the same can be said for cold pricklies.

I thought about the warm fuzzies recently because everything seems so negative at the moment if you watch the TV news or read the papers. Each negative report seemed to elicit another negative report – those cold pricklies were leading to yet more cold pricklies. We are a society in desperate need of more warm fuzzies!

Modern life is not set up for warm fuzzies – it is set up for convenience and cold pricklies. Technology means we interact with other humans less, and when we do actually have a face-to-face conversation, it is usually to complain about technology failing in some way (think supermarket self-service tills). When we chat to people, it tends not to be about how great we think they are – usually, it’s to complain about something they haven’t done.

Social media doesn’t help, and working from home has made things worse. The warm fuzziness of human contact has been swapped for the cold prickliness of social distance.

I have decided to make a conscious effort to embrace the warm fuzzies. Today, I picked up my phone and tapped out a message to a friend I’d recently been out for a walk with: “Our walk today has left me feeling warm and fuzzy.” I woke the next morning to a warm and fuzzy reply, and went through the day on a warm and fuzzy high.

So, spread the word about the warm fuzzies. With any luck, they might just take off.




Starting over…again!

A goodbye comes before another hello. Even though it is just another sunset on one day and another sunrise on another, as a society we have made the turn of a new year into so much more than that. The expectation, the pressure to celebrate, the release of one year and the hope of another – it can all feel a bit too much.

We end up reflecting on what has “gone wrong” and feeling the perceived gaps in our lives that everyone else seems to have filled. We can feel lonely, we miss those we have lost, and we can feel lost we don’t know what direction to take our lives in. These are all common feelings – and they need to be felt.

But I would love to focus on our ability to choose how we want to view the new year – away from the societal pressures and conformities of what a new year “should” mean. That human-constructed turning of the last digit of the year from a one to a two can either make or break us, depending on how we view it and how we use it. And I would encourage you to choose to let it make you.

1. Say a proper goodbye

We cannot engage with something new fully unless we have had time to reflect, to get closure and to reach that point of clarity that hits when we know a certain period of our lives is over – when there is no pull from the past any more, but rather just peace.

Be proud of what you have coped with – write a list, tell a friend, feel all the feelings that have come up and really feel that goodbye, or those feelings will find a way through later. Learn your lessons and learn them well. Gratitude and appreciation are the final steps in saying a proper goodbye to what has been. Let go of resentment, anger, upset and frustration, because they will only hold you back.

2. Say a proper hello

Forget societal pressure to change your entire life in one day, one week or even one year. Chuck the “new year, new me” vibes away. Set general intentions, not high-pressure resolutions. Instead of thinking about specific outcomes as a starting point, think about your general direction.

What do you want to be different and, most importantly, why? Unless you are clear on this, you can’t change anything. Be realistic – things won’t change overnight. Words and lists are all very well, but it is action that matters, so get going with practical steps. Be determined and take small, resolute steps forward.

3. Maybe nothing needs to change

Why are we always told we need to improve, to change, to be better? Maybe we want to do these things for ourselves and that is fine, but when the drive comes from self-criticism, any changes made never end up being positive ones. The drive to “better ourselves” can cause untold suffering.

4. Now is where it is at

Realise that your future is constructed from tiny moments and choices you are making right not.  Your future doesn’t happen in the future. It is being created now. So, choose how you spend each and every moment. These moments all add up to you experiencing something different.

5. Be open to the spontaneous

New Year’s goals are all very well but so often the best things happen out of nowhere. Planning, being prepared and organised are all fine, but as we have all been reminded so often in the past two years, the majority of life is out of our control. Don’t get too stuck or rigid in your thinking about how 2023 might turn out, or you might miss some of the best opportunities.

Taking a break from Tik Tok

One of my school teacher friends was bemoaning recently the drop in concentration spans she has noticed in the children she teaches. ‘They can’t focus on reading or watch a programme for more than 5 minutes!’ Clearly, I am not the only one who thinks we’re in danger of forgetting about things that aren’t five seconds long.

Before we begin, I want to make clear that this is not some boring old millennial slagging off TikTok. This social media platform can be incredible. It gives under-represented minorities a platform and a voice, it finds genuine talent, and for a vast proportion of the world, it is now ‘just the internet’. A Google executive recently noted that 40 per cent of 18-24s now use TikTok to search for a place to have lunch instead of their own search engine.

That said, moderation is key. I hate myself for spending valuable minutes of my life mindlessly scrolling through TikTok, my brain too overstimulated to form any meaningful emotional response to any of it. Nice video of a cute cat playing with another cute kitty – “that’s cute,” says my brain. Next!

Since the pandemic started, studies show that many of us have really struggled with our concentration levels. We’ve became so reliant on our phones to stay connected that we’ve found it really hard to get out of the habit.

Of course, a phone can be a portal to some brilliant things that enrich your life, articles that enlarge your brain and music that alters your mood in an instant. It’s where everyone and everything is. All of the time. All of it. All content ever right there on tap.

Unmoderated, it’s completely overstimulating and overpowering and because of this, you can easily forget about the other places and ways to find joy. For instance, you might find it hard to pick up a book to read and leave your phone alone but when you crack it, it makes you so happy and calm, opening up new worlds and stimulating the imagination.

The same can be said for when I watch the television. I think I enjoy it much more when I’m watching it and scrolling on my phone. But I don’t. I’m not fully present. Social media and the internet can wait. And I’d be better off forming my own opinions instead of looking for someone else’s.

Our brains should only be doing one thing at a time, and admitting to myself that it’s a problem with this has really helped. I now set aside time to read every day. And I’m getting better at not having instant gratification from the things I watch. A recent new release hubby and I enjoyed on Apple TV for example forced me to wait a week between episodes. Initially, I was annoyed – I want it now like everything else in life! – but it made the whole thing much more enjoyable and when I watched it, I thought about it.

I then talked it through with hubby, savoured it and genuinely looked forward to each Friday because there was a new one. It’s far better than bingeing the whole thing in six hours. Your brain cannot possibly process the nuances of the writing or the subtlety of the acting. These things have been painstakingly made, so the least we can do is painstakingly watch them.

If I want to have half an hour being mindless on TikTok, then that’s great. It can be really fun to zone out occasionally. But I want to be the one in charge. It’s a horrible feeling when you look up and realise your phone’s stolen an hour of your life and you weren’t in control of it. As good as police chases and endless videos of Harry Styles in his jumpsuits are, they can’t be the only things we put into our brains. I want things in there that I remember and treasure. Things that inspire me and nourish my Covid-addled brain.

We need to slow the pace of everything down, because these apps are deliberately set up to hook us in and get our brains used to an insanely fast turn over of content. It’s unhealthy, not to mention unnatural. As the late great Terry Wogan once said: “Take it easy, life’s short enough as it is without rushing it”. We can only cope with so much.