There are periods in life when nearly everything changes. I have recently been through a gigantic "out with old, in with the new" stage and it feels as if I changed skins or refreshed my blood. It wasn't all pretty, some of the stuff were quite hard and I am surprised how well I coped with it all and somehow emerged stronger, calmer, wiser, healthier and, against certain circumstances, happier.
You normally expect this type of things to happen with the New Year resolutions period, but you never know when it hits. Perhaps when you are mentally ready to take the plunge. For me, everything was set, as if by a superior being, in such a way that every single step I took was a natural follow-up of the previous one...
First I changed jobs. I have felt an unsettling urge of such a change ever since the year started and I began feeling that professionally I wasn't going anywhere. As much as I loved working in my old place, I had to listen to my instincts and my gut feeling kept telling me I wasn't going to make it too far there. I changed jobs in May and, though heartbroken, I survived the shock of moving from an extremely fun environment and from an office in the vibrant Covent Garden area to a small office, on a residential street in Hammersmith, practically on the other side of the city. By changing jobs I took a bit of a industry change turn and I had to struggle to pick up on the specifics of the pharma and healthcare... Yet another sector I knew next to nothing about to add to my varied portfolio... Three months later and I am still trying hard to settle into everything but my objectives are much clearer now and I am grateful I managed to train my mind into putting things into their real perspective, rather than expecting an immediate satisfaction.
Then I had to move house. I calculated that in seven years of London, I moved house 8 times. So a little bit over a house per year. Apparently, according to some studies, moving house is one of the most stressful changes in a person's life. It is common knowledge also that the place where you live has to be a sort of a sanctuary where a person feels safe and enjoys moments of relaxation and calm, a retreat from the craziness of everyday living. 8 houses so far and none of them has been a real home to me. I find myself puzzled whenever on holiday whether it is worth me buying a souvenir I would just carry around London moving houses for the rest of my life... A need of a home is growing stronger by the day and I finally decided looking into buying. I don't know where to start yet and when it will be finished but I have finally agreed with myself that, in all fairness, London is my home now and I might as well have a home here after all...
In the meantime, I have found a lovely place to live, which ticks all my boxes (quiet, central, clean, modern, en-suite shower, great flatmates, safe and with an outside patio). Looking for a place to live was as expected the nightmare from hell and I felt much under pressure as moving out date was drawing closer, until I decided that compromise was not an option. I had to temporarily live at a friend's house until finding the right place and being able to move, but it was worth the wait and the effort. Luckily, I got by with a little help from my friends.
They say personal issues come from childhood and, though in the recent years I have learned to love myself and forgive myself and accept myself for what I am, perhaps residues of my self-inflicted self-loathe were still to be found floating around my molecules and decided to take a journey back to childhood and see what I would find. When back to Romania in July, I took a try and surrounded by familiar objects and the specific energy of the place, I lied on my back, closed my eyes and went back in time... I found a scared little me in a grey knitted suit (I remember that suit from a Polaroid photo taken many years ago in a hotel by a German tourist, which my mum had knitted for me) crying in the corner of our old apartment by the Black Sea, thinking that the future will never look bright again... I mentally took the child version of myself into my arms and assured myself that the future does look better and that it will all be all right. With tears running down my cheeks I have made peace with the past, allowing the present to unfold at its best.
Last but not least, a family medical emergency introduced me to the stress of being in and out of a London hospital, of looking the suffering in the face, and watching the painful spectacle of the human being deprived of dignity by the sickness. I had the chance to look around me and realize how incredibly lucky I am and stop looking at my petty worries as if there was no tomorrow...I know I should have done it a long time ago, but there is no better way of acknowledgment as seeing it with your own eyes... I also had a chance to reflect a lot about the algorithm of suffering and eventually I could only reach one conclusion: there is no logic to why some people suffer more than others, why some live happy fulfilling lives and others have nothing to eat, why some live to see 100 and others die of cancer, and the only way to fight this "injustice" is to properly celebrate every single day of life for what it is - a miracle and a blessing!
So this is me now, with a new vision and a new plan. To be happy! No matter what. To look at my life and say: I did all right! To look at my problems and say: will I really care about this a few months from now?... To acknowledge what I want and patiently wait for it to come my way without being frustrated for not having it on the spot. To spend more time with the loved ones and tell them more often that I love them. To love. Everything and everyone around me. It's the only way...
When asked recently how do I manage with so many changes I stopped a bit and thought about it. Then I said: I got used to change...
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