A Diary’s End

Once upon a time I started a diary. It was called "Diary Of A New Life". The story began on 3rd October of this year when the person who I thought was my life partner, the father of my children, decided that he didn't want to be with me anymore. Things were further complicated because we lived in Switzerland.

I had to leave my life behind.

Let's be frank; that's really old news. Life moves on. The dust is settling and I have brushed myself off.

I had hoped to continue the diary, but things have been far more difficult upon my move back to the UK that I had anticipated. It's been hard enough just trying to find a home, to find money, to find some kind of sanity. Writing became painful.

These days, as some of you may know, my series of mini-blog posts could be entitled "Diary of a New Love". However, I am reluctant to go into depth about my circumstances. Suffice to say that something, or rather someone, who had been in my periphereal vision, has become a huge part of my life. It is very unexpected.

Today, my new love and I drove the kids to the beach. It was a dark, drizzly day. And after all the Christmas excitement the kids fell asleep almost instantly. We drove to the coast and whilst the kids slept, we discussed what it meant to be happy. Happiness, we concluded, is simply captured in a moment, it is not truly a state of being.

We discussed what we wanted from life. My only real conclusion is that I want to reach a point in my life when I want to feel more settled and I want to stop searching for something else. I am not at all sure I can achieve this.

When we finally got to the beach, we ventured to the shoreline and collected pebbles.

It was dusk. We could see the shoreline and the waves, but the horizon was lost in the mist.

And I realised that this is the point. However hard you look sometimes, there is just no horizon. You can't see for looking. You can't see what's ahead.

I do know this. This much I can give. After an intense year of being open, of dialogue, of communication, of talking… talking… talking; I cannot tell you just how much beauty, and indeed honesty, I have discovered in silence.

Enjoy your evening. I wish you all the absolute best and all the love in the world for 2011.

4 Responses

  1. Kath on January 1, 2011, 10:47 pm Reply

    That’s a beautiful wish, Jane, and I think you’re right – there are moments of happiness, you can’t be continuously happy. Always looking ahead prevents you being present in the ‘now’ and enjoying that. I like your image of the misty horizon – would we really want to know what the future brings anyway? Would it change what we do now, if we knew? Probably not as much as we think. So, enjoy your present, it sounds a good place to be after the upheaval of the past few months. Have a very Happy 2011, lovely lady. xx

  2. Karl James on January 2, 2011, 12:44 am Reply

    It’s one big old journey ain’t it? And here’s to new horizons, misty and otherwise, to direction if not destination, to purpose if not conclusions and to better questions if not answers. Thanks Jane for saying yes to me in 2010. Here’s to more conversations in 2011. K

  3. Pingback:Waiting For My Real Life To Begin: A Thank You « Splintered Reflections

  4. mcfallindustry@hotmail.com on April 7, 2011, 8:16 am Reply

    Jane just read this again and loved it.
    Your journey to the sea and lack of horizon, definition, really captures something I love. I agree I think life is a hazy, blurry thing in motion. That is its nature, we try to clarify, pin it down to understand it but really sometimes the hazy impression it leaves us with is more complete, before we take it all apart and analyze it, measure it, talk it to death .
    I think you captured something I express in my paintings, something muted, hazy, fleeting, the energy and motion behind it all, the thing you can’t pin down.
    angela

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