ME AND THE BRITISH SUMMER

The British summer officially started two days ago, but as is typical of all British summers, I've only been feeling it in short spurts. 

The sun does come out a little more frequently than it usually cares to, but the interspersed bouts of persistently passive aggressive showers and winds, and general assembling of ominous dark clouds don't quite qualify it as a real attempt at summertime weather. And they claim we have 93 days of summer in Britain. Sure couldn't ever tell.

Most people are right when they say London's weather is anything but straightforward. It's almost an art trying to figure it out, let alone decide what to wear. (In my experience, one should always, always have at least a light jacket or compact spring coat at hand, no matter how deep into 'Summer' they say we are)

I tend to get a bit too descriptive about the weather these days - sure sign of becoming a little more Brit. I always talk about the weather.

On to my main point today: I've always thought there must be a link between one's moods and the way the weather swings. The uncertainty of the British summertime sure mirrors my current state of mind. 


This all comes from having taken that huge leap of faith and not knowing where it would take me, starting from when I left my stable full-time job in January. Sabbaticals are honestly harder for someone like me than working is. I'm your typical workaholic who derives her worth from being fiercely hard at work a little bit more than is healthy, I've been told. I am someone who needs to constantly be challenged and engaged by tasks, deadlines and the surreal satisfaction of having put out a kickass piece of work. Not having that sort of agenda from 9-6 every day seems to derail me. 

I also struggle with being able to rely completely on the husband financially. I've always found it exceedingly difficult to spend someone else's money, without feeling this crazy sense of guilt that possibly, you don't deserve to have something just because you didn't directly work for the moolah to pay for it.  

That whole idea of having given up something so stable - a job I knew so well I could have done with my eyes closed - for this limbo is something that I seem to keep questioning over and over. Did I do the right thing?

But then, when these (increasingly frequent) moments come, I try to tell myself that if I didn't take the plunge to leave, I would never have known what could have been. I would never have had the chance to take up yoga teacher training and discover how important my practice was to me. I would have been stuck at a desk doing something that no longer challenged me or made me grow. I would never have had the chance to travel the way I did. I would not have gotten the chance to reconnect with old friends and make new ones. I would never have taken the time to get out of my comfort zone and push myself to learn new things. Like financial markets (yes, the big, scary F word for me). 

I would never have gotten the rest my weary, weather-beaten self really needed after so many years of work stress. I would never have learned that my self-worth and purpose shouldn't come solely from my day job. I wouldn't have the opportunity to fully devote myself toward finding something I really want to be doing for my career (and believe me when I say this is a full-time job in itself). 

I took the plunge because I didn't want to always wonder: What if?

I took the plunge and I can't regret it because it only helped me to see more clearly than ever before what it is I love and want to do for the rest of my life. 

Our friend Hong shared this on Facebook today:

"When it feels scary to jump, that is exactly when you jump, otherwise you end up staying in the same place your whole life, and that I can't do." - Abel Morales, A Most Violent Year

That just about says it all about the journey I jumped into at the start of this year. It hasn't been all that smooth a ride; in fact as I write this, the speed bumps are sharper and more numerous than I've ever experienced. But I jumped when it was scary and will ride this wave out even when it keeps getting scarier. I was in a place that would have rendered me at exactly the same unmovable spot with a ton of What-Ifs plastered all across my brain (and heart), and if I didn't jump into the unknown, I would never have known all that I know now. I would never have given myself the kick to uproot and grow.   

With the forecasts showing rain, grey skies and only intermittent sunshine for now, I'm just going to keep walking. Even if it means I have to carry a brolly and jacket wherever I go.