A matter of numbers…

SurfersHave you ever tried to cancel something like a phone number only to realize how wed you are to some numbers? Blimey. (Notice the little British thing goin’ on there? I pick up stuff fast. LOL) Well, I thought about all these links AFTER I cancelled my Canadian phone.

In an effort to cost cut which is tres responsible, I decided to go with one phone. Nowadays you can always pick one up with no plan etc. You need an address, but that’s readily supplied in most cases even when visiting, yeah? Besides, I seldom use my phone and as for getting in touch, everyone has other means of contacting me.

But then it hit me. Gosh, there are important accounts linked to that number. It did make me more aware of holds on us. We are well and surely held somewhat captive by our numbers. From phones, to PINs, to banking, numbers stand in for identities. And it’s all okay, just good to be aware.

Anywho, I reinstated my former UK number early today and after groceries were bought, M and I touched down on a favourite stretch of beach. In spite of a shiver-bringing chill, die-hard surfers braved the temps to take advantage of a sea churned into a frenzy by damn near gale force winds. A part from some dog walkers, there were few folks out for obvious reasons. But, it was heaven to be back in a place I love. Still, I have to share some rather startling revelations. You’ll be surprised methinks.

Over the last many weeks and months, I was coming to doubt my move. Canada’s pretty spectacular, after all. I far prefer our ‘style’. Old buildings have their charm certainly, but new construction across the pond leaves one cold, literally, and visually. We are a lot cleaner. We put a sheen on our surroundings. We have Muskoka, while the west has the Rockies! We have all the influences of an Indigenous culture. Our Native people add such a richness to our mosaic. None of that in the UK, that’s for sure. I could go on, but you get the idea. Seemed there’d been a freeze and the bloom was coming off the rose.

Thing is, I was happy about it. Okay, not in every instance, because I was startled to a great degree when these thoughts first hit, but soon I knew them to be a good thing. I wasn’t running away, now. An appreciation for a beautiful country with a rich culture had moved in and taken hold. And it felt wonderful. Plus, I could always change my mind and stay. Well, not stay, but move to B.C. Yep, it would cost A LOT, but it’s only money, yeah?

And, indeed I considered it. I would come for a visit, sort out my furniture and go back to Canada.

I’ve always found it difficult to settle. I used to say I hated where I lived, parts of Ontario, and so on. But this new found appreciation meant I could likely live anywhere contentedly. I’ll head to the west because the bloom is definitely off that rose.

All the longing and poetic romanticism for England had kind of disappeared. In what seemed a nanosecond, clarity had set in. A realistic lens saw all the grunge, the grey, and shabby tight spaces, alongside the green, against the sea’s blue. My mind focussed on the high monetary cost of goods, and was no longer charmed by cobblestone streets, or the thought of driving down washed out single-track back ‘roads’.

I would come for a visit. Sort out my things.

And then I arrived.

And yet and still and maybe always, here my heart soars.

Wishing for the gift of calm which is a side-effect of forgiveness. I’ve not always been able to understand the deepest aspects of forgiveness. I would say the word without allowing the action. Easier, it seemed, was the work of forgiving others. I was, after all, evil and difficult so others could only act ‘against’ me. They had no choice. Am I still so vile? No. Was I then? I cannot say. It does not matter. I simply forgive it all. And now, if ever I hear a destructive voice from inside or out say ‘you are a loser’, I respond calmly with these words.

“Forgive me, but you are wrong. And I forgive you for thinking so, but truth is, I am a winner!” Exhale.

Until tomorrow

 

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