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On this ball of rock and molten lava

I’ve always been one for reframing as a way to break the hold of the trance of the everyday, which otherwise constantly threatens to numb me to the infinite majesty of the adventure – too wrapped up in the details, you forget to see the whole – and I noticed myself on the flight back to Spain recently, almost spontaneously breaking the trancelike effect of going from one indisputable fact: England to another indisputable fact: Spain, via another indisputable fact: flying on an aeroplane, to instead reframe the event as moving – the method was irrelevant – from somewhere on a relatively norther latitude of the planet to somewhere on a relatively more southern latitude – like changing beaches when you’re on vacation, changing the view, changing the light, changing the climate, changing the architecture, the language and the culture – like changing beaches or flipping channels – the indisputable fact that ostensibly I was doing so because I needed to finalise AMPED was also irrelevant: in terms of the adventure of my life, I was merely changing beaches for a different view, a different flavour.

Feeling that instantly snapped me out of the trance of being someone going to do some work, sitting there on the plane with all the besuited businessmen and women and placed me back in the role of hero on the adventure, immersed in the mystery, for to denude your life of the inherent mystery by allowing yourself to remain entranced by your habitual perception of the everyday, is to denude your life of its intrinsic majesty, I always feel.

I’m writing this by way of gentle exhortation, dear reader: desist from being lulled by the trance of the everyday this instant and allow yourself to be fully immersed in the mystery of the adventure of your life, however apparently samey it might be on the surface of things – see yourself situated wherever you are on this ball of rock and molten lava mostly all covered in seawater, spinning in space around its axis at 1,000 miles per hour, while simultaneously hurtling in orbit round the sun at no less that 66,000 miles per hour, even as we speak, yet with you feeling relatively perfectly still and ask, ‘whatever next?’

That will add a pleasant change of flavour to your day and night, which is precisely what I wish you.

With love, Doc

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