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Saturday, 25 August 2012

Getting on the carousel.(money counted, chances taken, a little punch drunk.)

We are looking  down a  house move. And to a far province. Which might as well be  a far country, in a way. I am standing on the edge, at the brink, before the jump, because I know when you go you can't stop,  turn,   hang on, wait till you feel stronger.  I am an habituated upper of sticks, a punch drunk volunteer for moving on.  I know how it works. The packing by black bag and box, the canceling  of the utility bills, the re directing of mail, and then you are  Alice through the looking glass,   reversing every single last  thing at the other end.

I want to go. I do. There's  nothing quite as stale and dispiriting  as your default day, after you have baulked. I am reluctant to reap the whirlwind though, because there  is always a price to pay, always, when you have  turned  the world on its head, and you had better have the shoulders to carry it.

We must yet,  before we go,  run the whole scenario by the fearsome threesome. I have played these cards close to my chest,  till schools have been located, a possible date decided on. And then a swift departure planned before they can build up  a head of steam against DISRUPTION OF OUR COMFORT ZONE. Moving Teenagers is a whole other ballgame.  They are   neither child to be brought , or adult to choose. And we will have the new school uniforms, the bolshie refusals, the stuff they can not possibly do without taking up most of the available space in the removal van. The whole supporting edifice you make around your children, to be uprooted, replanted in a new country. So why not just.......stay?

I do believe there is a time to go, to move on, and if you get the timing right, if  you dare,  your courage will bring you growth,  change,   a much needed stretching of  all your  ever so slightly suffocating limits . Life is shift and  change my friends, a fairground trip, and when the carousel stops for you, you had  better  get on board. If you are able.