On a small island; inside the magic closet
London and I are good again, like an old couple who have decided to stick it out in spite of our differences. I’m mostly referring to the weather here, as it’s been raining for six weeks and is likely to keep doing so for the rest of our lives. But in fairness, I’m not too bothered about it as it’s pretty warm and light into the evenings. I’ll take a muggy summer over a gloomy winter any day. On that note though, I’m seriously considering some sort of regular winter escape, like the birds and the pensioners do, in an attempt to keep this city in my good graces. It’s starting to feel a bit like work, the thing I have with this island, but London has been around for longer than any boy. Maybe this is what it’s like to mate for life.
I feel like I’m on Narnia time. As in, I’ve walked through the magic closet, and for me it seems like months have gone by but outside it’s only been a couple of weeks. I could go into detail but this isn’t that sort of blog, so instead I will just express my awe that I seem to have managed to just let go and enjoy. I have always been an over-thinker, but right now my mind is free of thought regarding what happens later. I have no idea how I managed this, but it seemed to have come about on its own once I started stepping up a bit, once I started asking for what I actually want. It turns out my mother (and The Beatles) was right: You get what you give. … I’ve spent a lot of time overruling my tendency to trust my instincts blindly, so I’m a little taken aback by the fact that this new good fortune seems to be fuelled by an awareness that I am exactly where I’m supposed to be. I know I’m blathering on a bit here. I’m very happy.