It was cryptic I suppose, that last post, and no, being my friend on facebook wouldn’t help because it’s things to which I don’t have the public right, but that’s a further symptom of the broader issue. That is, most of my plans – both personal and professional – had more to do with decisions other people were making than they were to do with decisions I would make. And I guess I was/am hiding behind those things in order to not make a few hard decisions of my own.

Elephant’s Child is right, there has been loss, new loss and ongoing losses too. August is the month of my mother’s death and my father’s birthday. There’s been boxes taken out of storage and put back in. And I know by now I should be over it, but every now and then our fertility/infertility issues come back to tap me on the shoulder. Maybe that’s the stirrings of spring around me reminding me of my own impending autumn.*

Mostly though, I did have clarity on when I would be returning to Adelaide. Or, to be more specific, I knew when I would be leaving Abu Dhabi. It was the most certain I’d been about anything for the last three years. And that certainty? It seduced me.

The hook on which I was making that decision has, for the very best of reasons and reasons which fill me with hope and optimism, gone. So it’s not the disappearance of the hook that has me all a-twitter, it’s the loss of that highly-valued clarity.

I wasn’t wrong when I allowed external factors help me guide a decision. It was the right thing to do at the time. But I did fall into the trap I have fallen into a zillion times before. I took the opportunity of using an external factor as an excuse to not follow through on something else. I was giving myself a Get Out of Jail Free card, feeling the fear and doing it not at all…you get the picture.

So here I am again, left with personal responsibility for my own decisions and choices. Though it helps that can feel the stirrings of Adelaide’s hayfever season.

And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to cast my runes (again). And maybe shuffle my tarot cards.

(updated to add: sorry if I sound sad or melancholy…I don’t think I am, or not any more than might be my general state of being…I think I’m just at sixes and sevens and not quite sure what to do with myself…it’ll sort itself it out. Won’t it?)
*I agree, that’s dreadful. For some reason though I just can’t delete it.