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  • Kelli Younglove

When The Thrill Is Gone



Years ago while I was sitting in a cafe, the lyrics of a song triggered so much heartache I had to get up and leave.


"Life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone."


These words wouldn't have affected me in my 20s or 30s.


But I'd just turned 50 and was feeling the heaviness of disappointment and loss.


Key humans in my life—precious humans—had left Life's party and I wasn't sure I wanted to keep going without them.


Besides, I had seen and done everything.


Of course, this was a lie.


It's the nature of the mind to project the pain of the present onto the future in an attempt to create a feeling of certainty.


By my calculations, life was over. There was nothing new to look forward to.


The thrill of living was gone.


Except, I got it wrong.


When my mind did the math, it focused on all the subtractions. It didn't factor in the beauty around me, or all the new people who would stream into my life, and the growth I'd experience as a result of knowing them.


It couldn't imagine all the FIRSTS Life still had in store for me.


If you're curious, let's fast-forward five years.


Months before my 55th birthday, a friend (one of the beautiful humans who appeared not long after that dismal day in the cafe), took me to an Asian superstore and led me to a bin of strange, green lumps.

"I'm going to buy these for us," she told me, squeezing two of them to check for softness. "And we're going to eat them as soon as we get to the car."


She wasn't joking.


The minute we were buckled in, she broke the fruit open, tore off a piece and handed it to me.


"Eat it like this, " she said, showing me how to suck the flesh from the peel while avoiding the seeds.


When the flavour hit my mouth, it was so new and unexpected (and omg, so delicious), I had a white-light experience of enlightenment.


In those brilliant few seconds, I flashed-back to my 50-year-old self and when she saw the joy in me, the lie that had caused her so much suffering crumbled.


I call this my Atemoya moment.


But please don't rush out and buy one thinking you'll have a spiritual revelation.


My aha moment didn't happen because of the atemoya. It happened because I was willing to receive my friend's gift of love.


The thrill of living is a choice, my darling. It's a decision we make to keep ourselves open to the goodness of life instead of listening to (and believing) the voice of the limited mind.


That voice doesn't know about the realm of creation and endless possibilities.


So, if you're feeling like all the sweet juice has been sucked out of your life, please know there are many more fruits to be discovered!


And I'm not just talking about the kind you eat. I'm talking about fruits of the heart—and all the unexpected joys waiting for you in your future.



Sending you so much love,





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