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I was at home with the boys when I saw the first pictures of Princess Diana’s death in 1997. I remember I stopped everything, sat down and like thousands in the country, wept a little. The following days were a mix of emotions - the sadness at her death, the sombre faces of Princes Harry and William, feeling anxious for my own two, and constantly thinking how do young children cope without their mother. I’d lost my own mother earlier that year and was undoubtedly far more emotional but I also knew that I had been blessed - I had at least grown up with both parents. In the last couple of days we have been reminded of Princess Diana as Prince Harry talked of his silence, anger and eventual counselling over his mother’s death. And alongside his own personal revelation, the duke and duchess of Cambridge are highlighting mental health issues by spearheading the Heads Together campaign, a partnership which tackles the stigma surrounding mental health. This weekend it will be the London marathon charity of the year and turquoise headbands will draw attention to one of the last taboos facing us as a society today. I frequently hear that more of us, and that especially men need to open up about mental health problems to reduce the stigma. But surely mental health is everybody’s business. However we define mental health, the well being of society itself depends on our emotional flourishing – how we find meaning in our lives and in our relationships. Our friendships, our desire to care for others and let others care for us, our sense of hope and self-esteem and maybe most importantly our courage to ask for help, these aren’t signs of weakness, rather they’re signs of our resilience to carry on, of personal strength. Scriptural texts often remind the reader to reach out and to give to the marginalised in society, the usual categories are the hungry, the orphans, the traveller and the widow. Indeed the Qur’an speaks of giving as a sacred obligation not as charity. But helping those on the margins of society is not only about tackling material deprivation. Offering food to someone is a simple but profound act of hospitality but giving hope to others is what keeps alive the divine in the ordinary. And yet, our cultural pursuit of perfection in how we should look and feel, makes little space for emotional pain, for people’s loneliness and fears. Of course not everyone wants to talk openly of how their grief affects their mental health, of going through difficult times and we should respect that. But at the same time if anything connects us as a humanity, it is our vulnerabilities and the paradox of loss and hope which we all share.