Have you ever come to the point where you really feel there's an invisible brick wall blocking your route to where you'd like to be?
I remember feeling that way when I'd failed my driving test (more times than I can remember).
In that sort of situation, I normally allow myself time to have a mope and then take action and focus on trying again.
It worked - eventually - with my driving test.
Having had a particularly mopey week last week, I sat myself down to watch the docu-series My Last Summer. I figured I needed a strong dose of reality check to bring me out of the doldrums.
To summarise: the series intended to film the last summer of five terminally ill people. My aim was to watch impassively, without connection and get a grip on my perspective.
I wasn't prepared for the haunting legacy it's left me with. The fact that Andy, Ben, Jayne, Junior and Sonia became individuals and not just people. Or, I mention very quietly (because I'm naive to have developed a hope that miracles and fairy tales do happen), the veracity that they would all die.
It proved to be another thought provoking series from Love Productions. It provided the medicine I'd desired.
And if I shared my thoughts that we all have the ability to struggle on through, would you think I was talking a load of chumbawamba? If we're not terminally ill, don't we still have the ability to grab life, with both hands and get on with it?