How soon is now?

A while back Andy and I made a very big decision (VBD). It's one we have toyed with for a few years but we never got to the point of taking action. We toed (how DO you spell that?) we froed, (?) we changed our minds. But, eventually the VBD was made. We are moving back to the UK. Tomorrow.

We meant to come to Australia for four years and accidentally stayed 11. Something about the laid back lifestyle and the amazing fauna and flora grabbed us and held us here. But more than that, the people who became our friends kept us here - not against our will I should add, that would be weird.  

No, my friends (I'm switching to just my friends now, it's my blog and all that) kept me here with their kindness, their conversation and their insight. I've lost count of the number of D&Ms we've had over the years. We've shared plenty of laughs too, book club in particular was a source of great joy for me. Sometimes we even talked about the book. 

I sit here, the night before my flight and realise I've had my last bookclub/stitch n bitch/breakfast/brunch/morning tea/lunch/afternoon tea/dinner with my friends. We've shared our last baby shower, our last kids' birthday party, our last (rare) weekend away, our last milestone event. If not forever then for many years at least. I am bereft.

So often, a big part of happiness is dealing with loss. You meet people, they bring you joy (and you them, hopefully) and then you lose them one way or another. It's heartbreaking but heartwarming too. In the words of the eminently sensible Winnie the Pooh: "How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."

And they are not really lost. We'll keep in touch and we'll meet again - here, there or somewhere in between. 

I am a firm believer that when one door closes another one opens and one of the gifts of leaving Australia is being able to reconnect with friends and family in the UK and Europe. I'm looking forward to the conversations and the catch ups, they're a wonderful bunch. 

I love the UK as much as I love Australia (how lucky I am) and there's lots of exploring to do - castles, woodlands (complete with hedgehogs and squirrels!) country pubs, up-to-date episodes of all my favourite TV programmes and Sainsburys/Waitrose/Tesco/Marks & Spencer Food Hall to name but a few. Plus we'll get to fly to Europe again without having to sell a kidney, hooray! 

As sad as I am to leave this place, I'm excited too. I'm ready for change. It's time to embrace this next stage in our lives as a family and as individuals.

So here I am, going not "back to England" but forward to England. I may have lived there before, but this is a new adventure.

All change

I heard something profound yesterday. Just a comment, in passing, from an ordinary guy on the TV who was talking about how lucky he was in his job as Liaison Officer at St Michael's Mount in Cornwall, England.

His name is Pete Hamilton and the words he used were; "I wouldn't change a thing about my life." He then seemed a bit taken aback by his rather weighty statement and said " hang on a minute, let me just think about that... No, it's true; I wouldn't change a thing about my life." Then we saw a shot of him with (I think) his baby daughter in his arms.



St Michael’s Mount, Marazion, Cornwall England
Photo courtesy of www.stmichaelsmount.co.uk

It was such a small moment but it had a huge impact on me. I can't stop thinking about it - imagine being able to honestly say that you wouldn't change ANYTHING about your life? It's kind of a bit mind-blowing.
 
Of course it started me thinking about what I'd change about my life. Given this blog, it's no surprise that living more simply, free of debt and with time to do more of what makes me happy remain top of the list.

But even if all of those things were in place, would I/could I say that I wouldn't change a thing? So much of what Pete Hamilton said is down to attitude. Sure, he lives and works in a beautiful village, he's recently married and has just started a family, exciting times all round. But I got the sense that he's a content sort of person, that not leaving the area he has grown up in was a conscious choice to be happy with his lot rather than a lack of opportunity or ambition. That financial considerations are way down his list of priorities and that his greatest joy is found in the simplest things.

I mention his having stayed near his childhood home because I wonder if my own desire to live and work abroad (more than once) is indicative of a "grass is greener" mentality and thus a mindset destined to disappoint? Had I stayed in my hometown I'm pretty confident that I'd be living a simpler life; debt-free (or at least without the huge expenses the move necessitated) and with lots of time to do more of what makes me happy. Family support, a career uninterrupted by further study, a home bought earlier and some bad decisions unmade would have made that possible.

It would be disingenuous of me to suggest that I regret moving to Australia (or the Netherlands, an earlier adventure) or any of the travel I have experienced since I was 18 years old. I’m a firm believer in the idea that “the world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page” (St. Augustine) so staying in my hometown was never a realistic option for me. Not to mention the fact that I would have missed out on some amazing experiences and very special friends and but still... I wonder if my desire for “different” has in some ways limited my ability to enjoy the “everyday”.

So how do I make Mr. Hamilton’s statement true for me here and now? What steps do I take to find contentment in what is, instead of being distracted by what could be or what might have been?

I know I need to keep going with the things I put in motion when I started this blog. But what else? Have you done it? Are you one of the lucky few who wouldn't change a thing about your life? Are you working towards your own state of contentment? Please share your ideas!

It's not the end of the world

Today is an important day. Not because the world is ending (it isn't) but because I just withdrew from my postgraduate studies.

I have long wrestled with this decision. I started my PhD with the dream of becoming a lecturer in British and Australian Literature. I lectured and tutored during my studies and I loved it, teaching a subject you truly love is wonderful. Researching a subject that inflames your intellectual passions is wonderful. What isn't wonderful is the reality of being a paid academic. The huge amounts of paperwork, the constant pressure to bring money into the department, journal articles and conference papers which have to be produced in your own time, the very long working weeks and the discrepancy between hours worked (and compensated) and output expected. Put bluntly, the dream was just that and reality wasn't doing it for me.

 Letting go of a dream is hard. I feel a certain sense of shame and of failure if I think of my decision as "dropping out". But if I can reframe it as simply changing the dream then it becomes freeing, an opportunity for change. I wasn't enjoying it anymore so I stopped doing it. How radical!

As W. C. Fields once said: ‘If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Then quit. There’s no point in being a damn fool about it.’

I do have a safety net with an option to return to my studies without penalty as long as I do it within two years. That's a possibility but 20 years is more likely. There's so much I want to do.

First up is to write more and perhaps to try and get something into in a non-academic publication. I want to learn, once and for all, to sew. I want to work (post maternity leave) in a marketing communications/PR role for QLD tourism or the museum or a charity I feel strongly about. I want to enjoy time with my midgets without feeling I "should" be studying. In short, I want to do more of what makes me happy.

The decision I just made will allow me to do (or at least to attempt) all of those things.

In replacing the "dream" with goals that are different, though equally meaningful, it feels a little bit adventurous - as though I'm sailing away from the safety of the harbour and into the big wide blue.

It's an important day, but it's not the end of the world.

***************************************************

 

Wishing you all a wonderful Christmas and a splendid New Year. I hope it's a time of love, laughter and happiness.