Last night I saw a man die on a street in Marrakech. He was a poor man. He wore one of those Moroccan cloaks with a pointed hood. He collapsed right in front of me. A crowd gathered, lifted him up and sat him down against a wall. I couldn't see his face but I knew he was dead. I couldn't feel any life. The whole scene was strangely peaceful.

It made me think of my word for 2015. Aliveness. And how much of our lives we spend not really all that alive. How suddenly our lives could end. Just like that.