“You Start Dying Slowly”:

A Springtime Token of Gratitude & Inspiration

'As fleeting as their presence is, there's no such vibrancy as the bluebell'

As the sap begins to rise, winter's lament is lifted by lengthening light, its reach in stretching our days summerwards, I find myself returning to something I meant to share with you at the turn of the year - perhaps now more its rightful time. Spring, after all, is nature’s own beginning again.

In that spirit of renewal, I offer this as a token of appreciation - a reflection I’ve carried close. It’s a prose poem of uncertain authorship, often attributed to the great Chilean poet Pablo Neruda, but more reliably linked to Brazilian writer and journalist Martha Medeiros, who titled it A Morte Devagar (Die Slowly).

Regardless of where the words were born, the message they carry transcends borders and talks to us in the common tongue of Nature. Where 'she' speaks to us all - a gentle but firm wake-up call to grasp what life is while we are still alive.

Why These Words Still Matter:

This piece isn’t simply a literary gem. It’s a kind of life-compass - the compasses of my favourite sort. Navigation devices that can be called upon to show us 'The Way'. A call to courageous living and soulful attention. It reminds us that vitality is a choice renewed daily, not something to be postponed until the 'right time.' For, when can the time be more right than now?

Its lines help me notice where I might be shrinking from life’s open-handed invitation - where fear, habit, or fatigue might have dulled the edges of my curiosity. Hampered my resolve to live with intentionality. And so I offer it now, not as a lofty ideal, but as a down-to-earth encouragement as we enter this season of longer light and second chances.

“You Start Dying Slowly”:

“You Start Dying Slowly”

You start dying slowly

if you do not travel,

if you do not read,

if you do not listen to the sounds of life,

if you do not appreciate yourself.

You start dying slowly

when you kill your self-esteem;

when you do not let others help you.

You start dying slowly

if you become a slave of your habits,

walking every day on the same paths…

if you do not change your routine,

if you do not wear different colours,

or do not speak to those you don’t know.

You start dying slowly

if you avoid feeling passion

and its turbulent emotions—

those that make your eyes glisten

and your heart beat fast.

You start dying slowly

if you do not change your life when you are not satisfied with your job,

or with your love,

if you do not risk what is safe for the uncertain,

if you do not go after a dream,

if you do not allow yourself,

at least once in your lifetime,

to run away from sensible advice…

Seasonal Lessons from a Soulful Text:

Each line feels like a seed, asking only a little warmth and water from us to bloom into something vital:

To travel—even if only by changing our view or wandering a new path—is to nourish our sense of wonder.

To read is to feed the mind with what might yet be possible.

To listen—to birdsong, to silence, to one another—is to attune to life’s hidden harmonies.

To appreciate ourselves is not vanity, but the soil from which self-respect and contribution grow.

To risk the uncertain is to keep our spirits supple, our dreams reachable.

Spring reminds us: everything that grows does so by risking itself first as something small, uninformed and unformed. Such risks to seize, so must we.

A Fresh Invitation to Live:

Rather than a New Year’s resolution, let this be a Springtime reawakening—a quiet call to vibrate, resonate and transcend - as we were intended to.

I hope this message nudges something gently awake within you. Not urgency, but possibility. Not pressure, but permission - to live more vividly, more attentively, more in tune with what matters to you.

Let’s not wait for the next season to come before we begin again. Today is seed enough.

Wishing you light in your step, warmth in your heart, and courage to live as only you can.

Peace, purpose & perseverance,

Duncan

Nairn,

The Highlands of Scotland

April 2025