‘Mortal Instinct’ began it’s journey on the banks of a quiet river at the hand of a young woman as she recovered from an horrific motorcycle crash.
She was an ordinary sort of woman who daily, had to accomplish the extraordinary, and push herself to learn to walk again. At first the pain was excruciating, but through sheer stubbornness it progressed to mind-numbing hard work.
After her daily physiotherapy sessions she would hobble along the riverbank on her way home, breathing deeply so she wouldn’t scream, and wonder when it would get easier.
One summer’s day, when the sun burned particularly bright, she stopped under the shade of an ancient She-oak. A gentle breeze blew up from the river and used Mother Oak’s branches to paint soothing dapples on the green-sward. The woman was tired, bone tired, spirit tired. She half-sat/half-fell onto the grass at the edge of the river and cried, and cried.
She didn’t cry forever, although it felt like it. The warm breeze and the sunshine and the quiet river slowly recalled her attention to the supple beauty of her surroundings.
She blew her nose, wiped her eyes, accepted Mother Nature’s gentle gift, and breathed deep some more.
She leaned forward to peer down at the slow moving river. A tiny water-bug, she called them whirly-gigs, leisurely sculled its way across the top of the water.
In that moment something magical happened …
“The key to immortality is first living a life worth remembering.” – Bruce Lee