When everything in your life is clouded by the unknown, by fear, doubt, disquiet... know that there is the cool mist of a Yorkshire morning, a squelching dew puddle underfoot, and soft, brown earth beneath the emerald leaves that deck the forest floor.
Know that the clouds will fall gently to the ground and kiss you on their way down.
Know that the trees grow straight and tall, and in housed their boughs are countless tiny lives.
Know that the sun will rise again and the fog will allow you to gaze upon it in its roundness, unhindered by its usual blinding light.
Know that you can fill your lungs with something and what you breathe out will fill the earth also.
That the throbbing nonsense of the world has rhythm and pace and the dizzying hell scape has ebbs and quietnesses.
That you are everything even while you are nothing.