So happy lately. So happy. The funny thing about moving to a new country and being stuck in a transient state of not really belonging in the tourist class or the permament resident class is that you start living in the moment and when you don't get your bank information when you were meant to, or you were so busy drolling over a plaque denoting the place where Charles Dickens lived or biking about Hyde Park and drinking ginger beer with a some-level of cousin you never met before, who is actually close to your age even, and you forget to call your agency to see if your online banking codes came through...well, you don't stress.
Instead, you laugh, until you choke, over John Finnemore's epic preview of the next series of the Souvenir Programme and you sneak around side alley's and corner courtyards, snapping random photos at people's pretty flats and then you find yourself walking down a street and you wonder why it feels like you just walked into a t.v. show. Then you see Speedy's Cafe and the door for 221b and then you go in. Permanent grin glued and the local construction workers on tea out front stare at you as you go past with a springy step. Yeah, so what if I am just one in a million femal 20-somethings who is now frequenting your favourite local spot, take it up with the BBC.
It's London. There are people everywhere. I was sitting on a park bench in Russell Square Gardens (yes, that also features in Sherlock) and no other than the slightly creepy Timothy Spall, also known as Peter Pettigrew of Harry Potter fame, walks past with his nose buried in one of the newspapers that get passed around outside all entrances/exits to the Underground.
Being between means you get to try new things but also have to be careful of new things. I've got a giant list of foodstuffs I need to try eventually and already tested a few just out of pure amusement.
I also have a giant list of places to visit, despite doing a walking tour that hit nearly every big spot, plus getting a freew pass into the centre of the text-based media world and also got a free view of the city just as good as the pounds one might spend getting on up the Shard literally next door. The same goes with shops. I tried almost every day to walk into an old bookstore. To no avail. But that's life. Especially when you are in between and find yourself slipping into Westminster Abbey during a service (because that means you can go in for free) and feeling massively out of place because you find much of the sermon a bit silly in the terms of your personal views of the somethings and everythings in the Universe while also feeling like you are drowning in a sea of uncomprehending minisculism. You are one tiny human being under a lot of stone, under a lot of years. At least 500 to be exact. That also means a lot of people. A lot of events. Oh, and watch out when you step on top of Winston Churchill, or John Donne.
It's at this moment when you understand why heroes in adventure stores don't sit down and scream and rant, or cry and run away when they are faced with their entire known world getting turned up like a turnip patch during harvest time. They are not out-of-character. They are more in character than any of us can realise, until we too, are in the same situation.
When you are faced with things so bizarre, so different, or just a general sequence of events which is out of your ordinary to-do, you take it in stride. You do what you have to, just to see the end of the day.
You might not understand why. Or how. Or what the flip is going on. And you are most definitely entirely scared out of your head.
But at least you are out of your head. You aren't dreaming anymore. You are doing something. You are doing many big somethings. You are the hero in your own adventure story.
So, on that note, I entreat you, to stumble out ye olde farme doore (and include lots of "e's" just to throw things off even more) and to stand between the world known and the world unknown.
Take a deep breath, dive in. But don't forget your towel.
Just keep swimming.
Moony.
Instead, you laugh, until you choke, over John Finnemore's epic preview of the next series of the Souvenir Programme and you sneak around side alley's and corner courtyards, snapping random photos at people's pretty flats and then you find yourself walking down a street and you wonder why it feels like you just walked into a t.v. show. Then you see Speedy's Cafe and the door for 221b and then you go in. Permanent grin glued and the local construction workers on tea out front stare at you as you go past with a springy step. Yeah, so what if I am just one in a million femal 20-somethings who is now frequenting your favourite local spot, take it up with the BBC.
It's London. There are people everywhere. I was sitting on a park bench in Russell Square Gardens (yes, that also features in Sherlock) and no other than the slightly creepy Timothy Spall, also known as Peter Pettigrew of Harry Potter fame, walks past with his nose buried in one of the newspapers that get passed around outside all entrances/exits to the Underground.
Being between means you get to try new things but also have to be careful of new things. I've got a giant list of foodstuffs I need to try eventually and already tested a few just out of pure amusement.
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| Why isn't this in Canada?! We already have almost maple-flavour everything? |
It's at this moment when you understand why heroes in adventure stores don't sit down and scream and rant, or cry and run away when they are faced with their entire known world getting turned up like a turnip patch during harvest time. They are not out-of-character. They are more in character than any of us can realise, until we too, are in the same situation.
When you are faced with things so bizarre, so different, or just a general sequence of events which is out of your ordinary to-do, you take it in stride. You do what you have to, just to see the end of the day.
You might not understand why. Or how. Or what the flip is going on. And you are most definitely entirely scared out of your head.
But at least you are out of your head. You aren't dreaming anymore. You are doing something. You are doing many big somethings. You are the hero in your own adventure story.
So, on that note, I entreat you, to stumble out ye olde farme doore (and include lots of "e's" just to throw things off even more) and to stand between the world known and the world unknown.
Take a deep breath, dive in. But don't forget your towel.
Just keep swimming.
Moony.
Absolutely incredible Alyssa and beautifully expressed. It makes me want to put on my swim suit.....oh wait, we are all living our own stories and in mine, I'm naked.
ReplyDeleteKeep living full....and writing deeply.
Love you to London and back, Mom