I get on the bus to go to work. The news is still buzzing in my head. No, not buzzing. That's not right. My head is numb. Just stillness and silence after the explosion. I listen to Blackstar. It is a completely different album compared to the one I'd listened to the night before.
Yesterday morning I heard that David Bowie had died of cancer, aged 69. Yesterday afternoon I spent a grateful and contented hour walking and talking with my darling Dad. He is convalescing from an operation to remove a cancerous tumour, he is 69, thankfully he's going to be OK.
I were pushed to name a favourite track it would be 'Cygnet Committee' from his second album and his more folky era. In the circumstances I hope Mr Jones would forgive me for taking a slight liberty with the last line...
Mighty is the craic of seeing David perform a secret rehearsal gig with Tin Machine, as nominal support act to a local band in a Dublin pub, in front of no more than 100 people. I was upfront, my chest clashing with his micstand. It was punk as f***.
The legacy David Bowie leaves is not in my experience, simply in his music but in his early open and youthful challenges to concepts of being male or female and the impact that had on a generation.
An enormous benefit of mindfulness is that you get a free ticket to that rare destination: the present. Okay, I hear you say, 'What's so great about being in the present moment? What if I don't want to stare at a butterfly wing or hear the single ting of a windchime? I have places to go, people to meet.'
BBC1 showed a tribute to his life and cut live to a vibrant Brixton crowd paying homage to his life. I simply had to be there and jumped on the next train to South London. Hundreds had turned up, singing songs, waving placards or simply gazing across this unplanned celebration of his life.
For me his last artistic and life effort, his last album 'Black Star', the lyrics and related video, released on his birthday (Friday 8th January 2016), two days before his death, all this carries a deep meaning and powerful message about determination and energy
The death of a very famous person or a very famous death, allow us to project our own emotions upon them. It can be easier to express our grief about someone we feel we know, or our outrage at some injustice to five hundred Facebook friends or a thousand twitter followers, than it can to be deal with the real emotions we are feeling.
We knew Dad's illness was terminal, none of us were ready for how quickly it progressed. None of us were prepared to say goodbye quite so soon. When I received the call to say Dad had died, I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Nothing you do can steady your soul for that moment, the moment your life changes forever.
This year, I am thrilled to step into my new role as president of Unicef UK, the world's leading children's organisation. It's a real privilege to follow in the footsteps of Lord Paddy Ashdown who has been in the position for the last six years. As we welcome in the New Year and reflect on another Christmas filled with family, friends, food and presents, it's easy to forget about those who are less fortunate than us. This year, in my new role for Unicef UK, children across the world who face violence, disease, hunger and the chaos of war are at the front of my mind.
Be specific, stop the loggers. Climate Revolution is working with the charity, Cool Earth; working with indigenous people they are ring-fencing the forest to stop the loggers and so protect the interior. They are on track. So far they have raised £20million in actual money and in kind from practical support from governments. We need another £114million to save the whole world equatorial forest by 2020. The Queen has welcomed the Commonwealth's commitment to protect the forest in her name using the Cool Earth model to halt the destruction of rainforest.
Yes, I'm going to drink more in January, to send out my own message. Which is that 2016 should be the swansong of days, weeks and months of the year being appropriated for awareness of this cause or that.
The BBC's Victoria Derbyshire has recently started chemotherapy for her breast cancer. She like many women (and men) has started losing her hair and as a result is wearing a wig. Why can hair loss be such a big deal and so traumatic, and what can we do to deal with it well? Allow me to share some of my own experience.
Well let me tell you now that 2015 wasn't kinder to me. I'd even go as far as saying that it was one of the most testing years of my life for one reason or another. And judging by my social media feeds between Christmas and New Year, I'm not the only one who felt like this.
A new year, a new you. A chance to turn it all around, to start fresh and to make things happen - right? Well, sort of. I always say that every day is a new day and another chance to start over. I think one of the problems we face in the New Year is the expectation to have so many goals. But the pressure adds up and if we don't achieve the goals immediately we just set ourselves up for a fail. Here I have set out my lists of things to do in 2016, to take with you all year.