Let me confess something…

That might change your opinion of me.

Occasionally.. When the world is quiet. When the stars are out.

I walk outside. I unzip. And I pee.

Yes. Pee. In my own garden. Like a golden retriever with a mortgage.

Let's be clear — I have plumbing.

A whole bathroom, even. With soap, towels and a fancy hand cream.

But sometimes… I choose the great outdoors.

And not because I'm marking territory.

Or trying to become one with nature.

(Although there is something deeply primal about staring down a frostbitten shrub mid-stream.)

No — I pee outside for one simple reason:

It's the gateway to the stars.

See, peeing is what gets me out there.

It's the excuse. The bait. The trick that says:

"Mate, let's go outside. Just for a sec."

But then… I look up.

And boom — the real ritual begins.

At first, there's not much.

A few twinkly dots. A distant plane. A vague cloud that might look like a sad chicken.

But if I linger? If I don't rush back in?

The whole sky comes alive.

(By this point, just to clarify — I've stopped peeing.

I'm not out there like some rogue garden fountain tribute to Hypnos!)

I'm zipped, still, and just staring up…

More stars start to appear as the eyes change focus.

You may be able to spot a satellite zoom by silently.

And, if you're lucky, a shooting star zips past!

(It happens more often than you think!)

And just like that, my brain — the one that was buzzing with spreadsheets, stress, and tomorrow's breakfast — goes… still.

The pee got me there. But the stars make me stay.

Together? They're like therapy.

And here's the real kicker: The longer I stand there

The more everything falls into perspective.

That awkward message I haven't replied to? Tiny.

That feeling of being behind in life? Smaller than a speck of dust drifting past Orion's Belt.

That fight about "who left the wet towel on the bed"? Basically, a cosmic joke now.

The more I look up… The more I remember that I'm small — but also part of something enormous.

Take some time and try stargazing.

Wait for a clear night. Pee (optional). But get outside and look up either way. Stay just a little longer than feels comfortable.

(That is when the magic happens.)

Let your shoulders drop. Let your thoughts float.

And be still.

You will never regret looking up at the stars. Only that you didn't stay a little longer.

Kia Kaha and Much love (and hopefully tall fences),
Have a great week ahead, Chris x

*The darker the sky, the more the stars will reveal themselves. Less light pollution = more magic.

**I also sleep better when I do this. Why? Because bright lights at night mess with melatonin — the hormone that tells your body it's time to wind down. Light is the strongest cue for your internal clock. Too much of it late in the evening tricks your brain into thinking it's still daytime (those nights you stayed up saying just one more episode? Never ends well.) A few minutes outside in the dark helps reset all of that — gently, naturally.