It may come as no surprise that I am procrastinating with my writing. I pretend I don't know why, but I do. When I write, I expose myself not only to the world but also to myself. That's an odd sentence to write, but it's true.

For some of us there comes a time where we look at our wants and needs and question why they drive us.  What makes us want what we want in life?

So the question came this week.  What’s it like to live on your own?  The answer popped straight out without thought or consideration.  Lonely, but doable.  I don’t mean this in a sad way, it’s just the reality for me, and I know this is not the case for everyone. 

What a year!  There has been much going on and many relocations.  Ten in eighteen months to be precise, which in and of itself takes its toll, on both body and spirit.  I have been transient for too long now.  Whilst it has been an adventure, and I have been fortunate to spend time with some amazing people and meet some interesting characters, transience whilst liberating is also limiting.  It explains my absence from so many spheres of my life, including this one, thank you for your patience.

So where to now?  Well, just over a week ago I moved into my own place, my first solo dwelling.  

So, the day has come, today, Mother’s Day, was officially my first day as a single woman in 25 years.  It was a strange day, but a good one.

When you make a conscious decision to live, life starts to take you in some strange directions that you would not have otherwise chosen.  The past 6 months have been enlightening to say the least.   I have been so fortunate, to discover new friends and reignite old friendships that continue to surprise.  I have found happiness and love in unexpected places.  I have experienced sadness and tears and although I struggled to understand the whys and wherefores (understanding things has always been important to me), I have had to learn to accept it.  

Sometimes, people look at me with perplexed faces.  People that have known me my whole life, whom I haven’t seen in years.  Their eyes search mine piercingly, often for what seems like interminably long moments, and they are confounded.  They all reach the same conclusion, their faces are filled with amazement as they say, almost dumbfounded “But, you haven’t changed at all.”  I assure them I have, I am taller, and older, and greyer, I am more more achey, and slightly larger, and I hope, a lot wiser.  my standard response is that I have indeed changed,  and it’s just hair dye.  They are always dismissive and tell me I’m wrong.

Recently, I have been asked a few times, as we often are once we reach a certain age, if I have any regrets.  And my answer is always the same.  No, I don’t.

People are often shocked when I say that.  “None?  Not at all?”…

The tears started and I tried to hold them back, as I had so many times before, but I couldn’t any more, and despite my fears of being judged, of alienating her, of being seen as weak, she understood. There were no useless platitudes, no judgement, just a sharing of a pain and a sadness that shouldn’t be borne alone. 

If we are lucky, I mean really lucky, there is an intimacy that you get to share with another person unlike your other relationships.  Not in a sexual sense, I mean a closeness that can be physical (what can I say? I’ve Italian blood, we talk with our hands and I am, after all, a hugger) but an intimacy that comes from a deep understanding of the other.

So, it’s been a while…  Like you there has been much happening in my life.  We are all so very busy, meeting deadlines, meeting expectations, or doing the do.  When I talk to friends and family and ask whats been happening, the usual response is not much, just work, or just life.  But are we really living?  We are to busy meeting the needs of our jobs or our commitments that we don’t have time to actually meet the people that matter, to meet our own expectations for ourselves or to do what we truly want  to do.

Road tripping this weekend with Deanna to Wilsons Prom despite the weekend weather coming straight from the middle of winter instead of autumn was still a good idea.  We were planning to see the Big Drift but the rain and the cold had other ideas.  Much driving, much walking, many kangaroos and the most beautiful bays and headlands I have seen in a good long while.

Have you ever sat and watched time pass?  Not worrying about going somewhere or doing something, not conscious of any clock?  Have you ever sat and watched the landscape change as the light builds and then fades?  The sun sweeping overhead the only record of the hours slipping by?  It is a luxury we can rarely afford these days, and one I rarely get to indulge in, but to do so in the beauty of Pyrenees mountains at the Chateau du Gudanes was truly a gift.

Who can say no to Paris?  Even if it is just a 14 hour stopover late at night and all you see is the airport and the hotel.  Paris is always a good idea.

I started this trip determined to write everyday, to write in my blog, to work on my novel, there were grand plans my friends, but as we know, the best laid plans of mice and men…  I will write on my stay at the Chateau de Gudanes soon, but now - a little on my trip back home.