Often, it is only when we are confronted with a global crisis such as war or disaster, or a deeply personal one such as terminal illness or the loss of someone we love most, that we realise how abundant and beautiful life has been, and how much we have taken it for granted. We complain about going to a job we hate. We resent having to attend university. We curse the gloomy, rainy weather. We grow impatient in traffic. We say life is not exciting enough. We magnify small arguments as though they are disasters in themselves. And in doing so, we forget that life can be extraordinarily beautiful if only we are willing to look beyond our mundane inconveniences and truly notice it. Sometimes, though, we notice too late. When you fall asleep in fear, unsure of what you will wake up to. When every unfamiliar sound makes your heart race. When you reach for the person you love and they are no longer there. When your body is in such agony that even the simplest task feels unbearable, that is when you realise how fiercely you long for things to return to normal. How tightly you cling to a cup of coffee just to anchor yourself to the present moment. How deeply you hold on to shared laughter, knowing it may be all you have. How consciously you feel the breeze against your skin, reminding yourself that you are still here. What would you not give for things to go back to how they were? To return to your ordinary, predictable, beautifully boring little life.