Life is beautiful, what do you think? In the morning I say, 'Ah

Hear the voice of Alejandro Jodorowsky, who speaks with the wonder of a sage and the laughter of one who has outlived sorrow: “Life is beautiful, what do you think? In the morning I say, ‘Ah, I am alive still!’ All my friends die already. I am alive. It is fantastic.” These words, though light in tone, are heavy with meaning. They spring not from the lips of one untouched by grief, but from one who has seen death claim his companions, who has walked through loss, and yet still greets the day with awe.

When he declares, “Life is beautiful,” he does not mean life is free from suffering. He knows, as all who grow old know, that pain, loss, and death are unavoidable companions. But here lies the depth of his wisdom: beauty does not vanish because of sorrow—it shines brighter because of it. To awaken in the morning, to draw breath after another night, to still walk the earth while others have gone—this is not a small thing. It is a miracle repeated daily, and he calls upon us to notice it.

The mention of his friends is not casual. He bears the grief of their absence, yet instead of despair, he turns grief into gratitude. Their passing reminds him that his own time is fragile, borrowed, uncertain. But rather than letting death darken his soul, he uses it as a lens to magnify life. “I am alive still,” he says—not with arrogance, but with joy, with childlike astonishment, as if each new dawn is a gift he did not expect to receive.

Consider the story of Cicero, the Roman orator, who once wrote that to grow old is not to decline, but to harvest the fruits of life well-lived. He spoke of elders who, though surrounded by the memories of those gone, rejoiced in the simple things: in the warmth of the sun, in the exchange of words, in the endurance of spirit. Like Jodorowsky, Cicero taught that death should not make us curse life, but should remind us to savor it all the more, for the days remaining are precious beyond measure.

Jodorowsky’s words are also an act of defiance against despair. In a world that often measures worth by youth, strength, or possessions, he finds greatness simply in existence itself. Each heartbeat is cause for celebration; each breath is victory over the silence of the grave. To see life in this way requires the eyes of the wise, for the ungrateful see only what they lack, while the awakened soul marvels at what still remains.

The lesson, then, is clear: life is not guaranteed, and therefore every day is extraordinary. To live fully, one must not wait for grand events or distant victories, but must recognize the miracle in rising each morning, in greeting the sun, in feeling the pulse of one’s own being. Gratitude is the foundation of joy, and joy is the triumph of the living over the inevitability of death.

The practical action is simple but profound: begin each morning as Jodorowsky does. When you open your eyes, do not rush to complaint or burden. Instead, whisper to yourself: “I am alive still!” Let this thought shape your day. Practice gratitude not as a fleeting feeling, but as a discipline. When you walk, notice the air in your lungs; when you eat, taste with wonder; when you laugh, remember it is a gift denied to countless others. By this, you will transform ordinary days into radiant treasures.

Thus, let his words endure as a hymn for all who walk the fragile path of life: death is certain, but until it comes, each day is a victory. And in the end, to live with such joy, such gratitude, is to answer death not with fear but with triumph. For truly, as Jodorowsky proclaims, life is beautiful.