I HAVE visited Helston Cemetery several times in the last two weeks and the time I spent there has dominated my thoughts.
It is a sobering moment when you see so many familiar names – friends, former colleagues and clients, people you went to school with as well as relatives of people you know.
Walking through the grounds and reading names on gravestones, it struck me that it didn’t matter whether that person lived in the largest house or drove the nicest car, each now shares the same corner of the earth for eternity.
As the headstones unforgivingly remind us, our lives start on one date and end on another. So why do many of us make the middle years so complicated and get upset over things so insignificant or trivial?
I admit that sharing these thoughts in a column which is often critical of day-to-day misdemeanours could be deemed ironic, and maybe I should heed my own words and focus more attention on positive local stories rather than negative ones.