I was having a down day. I was feeling overwhelmed by the responsibilities, the tasks, the to do lists. After a long week at work, I had a busy weekend and I didn’t want to get out of bed.

I checked my watch and it was 11am. I had to get up. I dragged myself out of bed to head to the shower, I sat on the loo with a deep sigh. I thought about how tough life felt. And then my very next thought was “so why do we hold on so tightly to it?” Before I knew it, I’d said it out loud…. “why do we hold so tightly onto life when it’s just soooo tough…” and my husband shouted back, “bloody hell, Rach, what a thought!”

I laughed it off. I said “it’s right though isn’t it…life is really hard, yet we’re all so keen to cling onto it.” My husband thought it was a really morbid thought, but it made me curious. I love a bit of philosophical musing. Though he didn’t want to entertain me, the thought stuck with me throughout my shower. I pondered it more. WHY do we?

Life, with all its challenges, pain, and unpredictability, can feel like a relentless struggle at times. I really struggle with it at times. Yet, despite its harsh edges, there’s something inherently precious about it. We hold on so tightly, I think, because within that toughness, there are glimmers of beauty, love, and hope—those moments that make our hearts swell, even if briefly.

Life is like a swing, the ups and downs, the joy and the suffering, and maybe we cling to it because we’re hoping for those moments when its sweet, and we’re lost in it. We hope for a moment of connection, of love, of peace that will remind us why we’re here, why it’s all worth it. Perhaps, too, there’s a part of us that recognises the potential for growth, even in the struggle. We’re constantly evolving, shedding old skins, and discovering new depths within ourselves.

And maybe, just maybe, we hold on because we know that even in the darkest times, there’s a chance—no matter how small—that light will break through.

So, it’s love and fear. That’s why we hold on so tightly even when it’s so tough: Fear of death, love of evolution.

The love of life, of connection, of the moments that make our hearts feel alive, keeps us reaching for more. We crave growth, expansion, and those bursts of beauty that catch us off guard. It’s the love of what could be, of who we are becoming, that drives us to keep going, even when the road ahead feels tough.

And then, there’s fear. The fear of death, of the unknown, of letting go of what is familiar—even when it’s painful. Fear is what grips us when we imagine an end, a finality that we can’t quite fathom. It’s the part of us that resists change, even when change is the very thing we need.

There’s that swing again… Love pushes us forward, whispering of possibility, while fear keeps us moving back, trying to preserve what we know. Maybe life is about finding the courage to let love lead, even when fear tries to keep us still.

Letting love lead—a beautiful aspiration, I think, yet it’s one of the hardest things to do, isn’t it? Fear can be so loud, so all-consuming, while love is gentle and it gets lost beneath the noise. But I think it starts with awareness, with noticing when fear is taking the wheel, and gently, lovingly, choosing to shift direction.

Fear often comes dressed as control—certainly in my life, anyway- trying to predict, to prepare, to guard against what might go wrong. So, to let love lead, maybe we begin by softening the grip, by trusting that we don’t have to know everything, fix everything, or hold it all together. It’s in those small moments of surrender, of saying, “I don’t have to control this. I just have to show up, open-hearted,” that love starts to guide us.

And it’s about presence, too. Love exists in the now, in the breath you take, in the quiet moment when your heart feels something softer. Fear, on the other hand, lives in the past and the future, in the what-ifs and the what-was. When we draw ourselves back to the present, even if it’s just for a moment, we can find love there, waiting, ready to lead us to the next step.

Courage is also key—acknowledging the fear but choosing to act from a place of love anyway. Feeling the fear but doing it anyway. It’s saying, “I see you, fear. I understand why you’re here. But I’m going to move forward with love, with hope, with trust.” Little by little, the more we choose love over fear, the more it becomes our natural compass, guiding us through the tough days.

I feel like a day led by love would begin gently, without the blaring of an alarm, or the jarring rush of tasks and to-dos. It would start with a quiet moment to just breathe, to feel your body waking up, to connect with yourself before the world starts asking things of you. Maybe it’s a moment of gratitude for the simple act of waking up, a silent recognition of the heart that keeps beating.

As you move through the day, love would invite you to be present with whatever is in front of you. Instead of rushing through breakfast, you might savour each bite, appreciating the taste and the nourishment it gives. Instead of scrolling through your phone in a moment of boredom, you might look out the window, noticing how the light falls, how the trees sway. Love pays attention to the little things that often get overlooked in the busyness of daily life.

In your interactions, with your kids, husband, work colleagues, a day led by love would mean listening—really listening—to those around you. It’s responding from a place of empathy and understanding, even when someone’s words or actions are difficult. Love asks us to see beyond the surface, to acknowledge the humanity in others, even when they’re struggling to show it.

It’s also about gentleness with yourself. When fear whispers that you’re not doing enough, love reminds you that you’re doing your best, even if you are a mess! It’s choosing to rest when you’re tired, instead of pushing yourself to more exhaustion. It’s speaking to yourself with kindness when you make a mistake, rather than letting self-criticism take over.

A day led by love would have space—space to breathe, to be, to connect with what truly matters. You might find yourself laughing more, or letting tears come when they need to, without judgment. Love isn’t about perfection; it’s about presence regardless of how messed up things might be. It’s finding joy in the small things—a hug with your child, a warm cup of tea, a shared smile, a moment of quiet peace.

And when fear does show up, as it inevitably will, a day led by love wouldn’t push it away or ignore it. Instead, you’d greet it with compassion, acknowledging that it’s there because it wants to protect you. But you’d also gently remind it that you’re choosing a different path today—a path where love, not fear, gets to lead.

By the end of my shower, I’d concluded that we hold on to life so tightly, not just because of fear, but because of love—the kind of love that seeks out light even in the dark times. Life is hard, undeniably so, and there are days when it feels like a relentless uphill climb. But we cling to it because, somewhere within us, there’s a deep knowing that these struggles don’t define our whole story.

Maybe, when it all feels too much, like it did to me on that down day, the answer is to let love take the lead, to soften our grip, and allow ourselves to remember that “You’re doing your best, and that’s enough.”

Let love keep calling you forward, reminding you that there’s always something more to be discovered—something beautiful, even on the toughest of days.