Home, again

“Home, home again

I like to be here when I can

When I come home, cold and tired

It's good to warm my bones beside the fire.”

Music can turn your whole day around.

You might find yourself ruminating and replaying something that happened, as you walk out of the hospital after a long day of work. You tried your best to help, but sometimes, despite all efforts, it isn’t enough. You walk out feeling small and helpless. You carry this heaviness around, and it follows you home.

Then you come home, listen to David Gilmour playing the guitar, and suddenly it changes your whole mental landscape. The sharp edges of your thoughts soften, the noise inside settles, and for a moment, you simply breathe.

You feel grateful just to be here — a passive, silent witness to such beauty in the world. And in a strange way, you realise that maybe this, too, is part of the work: to find the strength and feel the quiet grace of being able to show up again.

Tomorrow, we rise and try again — carrying the warmth of the music within us, and hoping that, just for a while, death doesn’t have the last laugh. And when the day is done and you are home again, you remember — there's always something beautiful waiting for you.