Iona Winter

This morning I woke to sea-fog, along with the birds. God I love it, this constant exploration of things new! Nearly five months (since I took the plunge and moved to the country) and no regrets at all. Am I surprised? No, not really. But I think some people might be.

I reckon the sea-fog represented my brain this morning. In that it was slightly difficult to see where I was going. Half in and half out of dreams. Sleep aside, I confess there has been much to reconcile over the past few weeks.

I’ve made a decision to change my career trajectory. But is it really a change? Years ago I did something completely unrelated to what I do now. But then (I ask myself), what is ever unrelated in one’s life? What on earth am I worried about for goodness sake? People do it all the time. EVERYTHING has a flow to it. Changes are connected, because they are OUR thoughts, plans, dreams and visions. Not anyone else’s.

Now that the sea-fog has cleared, I can look out onto the garden filled with sweet-peas and lavender. There is a hive of activity out there, bees, birds, and other insects – even the chooks are clucking away contentedly. Activity, movement, and an ability to see in front of one’s nose aka CLARITY.

Of late, I have found myself reluctant to leave this delightful oasis of calm. I’ve realised that I don’t want to compromise anymore. Maybe that’s selfish of me. Maybe it’s self-care. Maybe it’s being another year older. Who cares? I’m happy not to argue over, what a friend of mine might call, ‘twiddles’. It doesn’t matter why, because I’ve realised (most of all) that WRITING is what I REALLY want to do. Full stop. So I am being brave, and diversifying in what I do (not just) to earn a crust, but the whole loaf! A new and improved recipe.

There is, however, something I have been avoiding talking about – so I’ll go ahead and say it. I’m aware that my writing here is nothing like ‘The Novel’. Am I selling you, dear readers, short by presenting different tone, pace and subject matter? How will it affect you when you read ‘The Novel’? I don’t know. Again, does it really matter? Perhaps all it means is that I am capable of writing different styles. Perhaps I don’t need to analyse it too much.

PERHAPS I simply need to continue trusting what I am doing, trusting in each step that I take, and trusting in our infinite universe, that plenty of options will present themselves in any given moment, and above all else – that I have CHOICE. Choice to exist in a way that is meaningful for me, and for that alone I am supremely grateful.