“The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it and join the dance.” |
The turn of September always
marks a time of change for me. It
probably hankers back to days when the turn of the month would mean new shoes,
a shiny pencil case and different class at school. But despite those days being
long gone I still get the same anxious excitement and nostalgic longing at this
time of year.
The start of September
always seems to bring a more dramatic change in seasons. Spring always creeps
up on like a breaking dawn but autumn switches on like a light bulb. Before we
know it the denim hot pants and bikinis are put to the back of the cupboard and
the leather boots and black opaque tights are out. The lazy summer days are long distant happy
memories.
Christmas maybe three
months away but the unofficial count down curtesy of XFactor has begun and I’m
sure it won’t be long until Intsagram goes crazy with pictures of red coffee
cups set on the back drop of some russet fallen leaves.
Change can often be
difficult to deal with, as much as I like to think I’m a free spirit full of
spontaneity, in truth I am a creature of habit. I’ve enjoyed the ritual of
constancy living with the same person for almost four years, working in the
same office for nearly three years and seeking sanctuary away from the city
back at my parents in the countryside for almost a decade. But this autumn much
of that is set to change.
Back in January 2011 I
met an Aussie chick on the internet, within two weeks we had found a flat and
for the years that followed we’ve shared domestic bliss. Who knew answering a
‘find a flatmate’ ad would bring such strong and valued friendship that I now
consider her amongst my nearest and dearest. We’ve shared giggles and
debauchery as well and tears and support but now it’s time for her to make the
trek back to the motherland.
To add to this already
traumatic event my dad has sold the family home, the beautiful cottage in the
countryside which my parents lovingly restored. So many memories and amazing
family times were spent within those 250 year old walls. I resented living
there as a teenager for being stuck in the middle of nowhere with no even a pub
nearby to attempt to underage drink in. But as I got older it became a place
loved going back to for time out from city life, a place where I could enjoy
cosy Christmas’ with my family or walk the dog for miles without even seeing
another soul.
Cliché Alert…
But as they say all good
things must come to an end and as one door closes another one opens. So cheesy
but it’s true, with change comes new starts and exciting opportunities. I’m
trying my hardest to not be consumed by the sadness of the end of these eras
and instead think about how exciting it’s going to be to have not one but two
new flatmates which I’m sure will bring many a crazy adventure. And my family
and I are having a huge laugh sorting through our worldly possessions,
uncovering old photos and retelling stories.
It's good to take time to reflect on great times, but it's not healthy to live in the past. I'm learning to break my habits and embrace this change. I'm not going to lie, I'm scared of the next few months without my best friend by my side as my partner in crime but I'm excited for what great adventures will happen as I go it alone.
Bring it on September.
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