We move out of the house next week. The worst of the packing is over. There is really only giving, selling and throwing out to do with the rest being picked up by the shippers in just over a week. The cars will also be gone and we will have come full circle as we move back into our in-laws' house just as we did on October 2nd 2007. We leave just as we arrived - though we are very very different people now than we were then. I feel a bit like Frodo Baggins on his return to The Shire. I know I, we, and my life will never be the same after this. I see London differently, I see friends differently and I look at life in a way I only pretended to before. I will be unrecognizable to those who know me and I may take some getting used to but that is a journey for them to take. I'm well into my stride and pacing for the next of many laps.
I honestly don't know whether it's all the yoga and meditation or if my experience here has caused a total loss of emotion or if I've simply just been through the most important learning experience of my life, but I don't feel anything at all about leaving, or even more to the point about going home to a place I seemingly missed with all my heart. To be honest, while occasionally I have mixed 'emotions' if you can call them that, about going home to London - for the most part - I have nothing but an overriding feeling of neutrality about the whole exercise. The calm that follows the storm that preceeds the storm?
While there is an elephant-sized shitload to do once I get there - I'm just not really phased by it at all. I mean, I don't see any of it as a huge inconvenience, just like I didn't see what the big deal was with coming to Canada in the first place and I'm wondering whether alarm bells should be ringing, since coming to Canada turned out to be such a ground to air disaster. And because I can't help myself, I am secretly analyzing - this is against the rules of Zen - the differences between the two moves. I have come to this conclusion - while the move to Canada never felt great - the move back to the UK does, but only in a 'it doesn't feel not great' way.
I can't put my finger on why I feel like this exactly; why I'm not excited to the point of nervous collapse, calling recruiters and yoga studios and estate agents - which is what the old version of me would do but I get this sense of it being pointless until I am there, in situ. Maybe I'm at the age where you don't get excited anymore and then I think...bullshit - I always get excited about fun stuff. Misery me blames my experience here and truthfully, I do believe that having to interact with a bunch of anal retentives (I'm talking at the bureaucratic and business level) has somewhat dulled my ability to get happy about little things but my goodness what would my life be if it wasn't for the little things ...so no I won't accept that. No doubt the truth will out eventually but I do feel as if I'm on the precipice of something as opposed to nothing. I do feel I'm being given a second chance, another second chance. I guess time will tell.
Let's just hope my instincts have improved since 2007.
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