I think I’ve been a bit…in mourning, this past week; as one does when future plans are suddenly ripped away.
I had rather been intending to make a go of it here in Australia. I was looking for permanent residency, but more than that I was looking for a place to build.
I have an entire page of notes (that I knew were a bad idea at the time of writing. Planning out a future in any way that includes notes is not allowing any space for my actual rather chaotic lifestyle to come in and muck things up) where I thought about exactly what kind of a space I wanted to have here in Melbourne.
In my notes I called it “The Nest”. That’s what I wanted.
The last place I lived in was called The Castle. This originally stemmed from the term “Ten Pound Castle” (which is a term for stone Tower Houses in Ireland. They were built by lesser royalty at a time when building a giant stone turret to use as a home only cost ten pounds) but it meant something very different by the time I left.
It was my castle. My home, my place of safety. It was the refuge where I could find protection from the things in my life I was trying to separate myself from.
It was also, as much as I could make it, a place for other people to seek refuge. It was a place that was meant to be open to all, and home to those who needed it.
The Nest was going to be something else; an open place, a starting point from which to grow and take off. I was looking for a new home base, where I would have the space I needed to explore, but I could be secure when I needed it. It wasn’t meant to be the immovable stone of a castle, but still a shelter from any storms that would come.
That was pretty much as long-term as that plan was. The thing is, though, what I want hasn’t changed as much as the situation has.
I still want to be able to make a nest here. However, as I have found through all of my paperwork recently, there is no way to do that.
This week has been a bit like grieving, because all of the half-baked plans and what-ifs just got their skeletons removed.
There’s nothing actually wrong with that. (This is what happens when I live in my head too much. I forget extremely relevant facts and end up tripping on stairs that I would have known were there if I had only looked.)
I think it might be a little while longer before I have completely come to terms with this. (Additionally, I am by no means giving up on my possibilities of coming to live in Australia full-time. I am just now having to look into different paths to get there.)
Until then, though, I am starting to once again be excited about the possibilites of life.
Maybe having a steady address won’t actually work out for a few more years, but it just means there are other adventures to be having.
Not going one way simply means getting to go another.
So, here’s to the future; whatever it may bring.