Being a moss-gathering kind of Mudpuddler, it takes a lot to get me changing direction in life. Not just because I dislike anything which impinges, even temporarily, on my rock-like reliability (no, seriously) but also because it is far to go, and there is much to recommend here and now, why else would I be here, now? Besides, I was not just a rolling stone over the 3 years of my university degree, I was positively rocket-powered. A period, indeed a lifetime of moss-gathering was essential fayre after that.
That being said, there have been occasions on which I have volte-faced or spun a tricksy 90 degrees to evade the pursuing past or the big, fat arse of the future rearing ahead of me (puntacular stuff). I was thinking, what is it that has caused me, on those rare occasions, to change direction? What is the common theme?
Sad as I am to admit it, I was a very heavy smoker for 20 years - probably chuffing, on average, 30 a day for the 20 years. I stopped, very suddenly, 4 years ago this Wednesday coming. I had failed to quit so many times I can't even count, and usually not gone beyond a few hours before caving in. What was different this time? In hindsight, I woke up out of breath one morning, reached out and sparked up a ciggie (always had a smoke before anything, regardless) and coughed my way through the whole thing before almost falling downstairs I felt so dizzy and craptacular (tis the day of made up -tacular words... deal with it). The future seemed not so rosy. Just add at this point - have not smoked, taken a puff, held a ciggie or anything similar ever since giving up.
I left my first full-time job the morning after I had my heart broken. The truth is, I had been miserable in the job from pretty much the first day. The job wasnot fulfilling, did not give me any chance of flexing my brainicus maximus and lacked opportunity. My dis-enjoyment of course fed into this, meaning I was forever getting 'into twouble' and it was only the diversionary entertainment of social life which kept me going. Looking back, it wasn't the heart break so much as the broken heart made everything else which was wrong seem raw, immediate and very dangerous. A lance which required instant boiling, or something like that.
Right now I am planning to switch track from a suburban life to a much more rural one. To take my pleasures from the simple agrarian world, and dabble only with purpose in the concrete reality of the city. Over the course of a few years, things have felt increasingly 'wrong' in life - as if I was forcing myself to keep both feet on concrete and occasionally roll in the grass. There has, however, been a gorwing realisation of future misery and unfulfilment from that life. So, I tentatively put my house on the market and made a bid for a house with loads of potential but limited immediate 'appeal' - the offer was accepted and I accepted an offer on my house on the first day on the market from the first viewer for not far short of the asking price. Things happen for a reason.
And that, really, is the point of this - things happen for a reason, and that reason is to give you the chance to view what life is like further down your particular path - a little bit of crystal balling, a free palm read. That's the time to volte-face, bend it like someone or other or plough on, happy with your lot. Events, dear boy, events. Or rather, events, and how well you use them to your advantage.
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