Sometimes it’s easy to complain about the mundane things, “the dailiness of tasks”, that must be attended to — in the interest of sustaining oneself. When I feel myself falling into that old pattern, I remember my father’s words, from years ago, when I did the same…

I finished speaking my litany of complaints — about all the things I “had to do” — and asked some “question” that I can no longer summon to my memory.

Yet, I vividly remember Dad’s answer, “You’re alive.”

Full stop.