A Time For Change

The weather that at the end of September already forshadowed the coming of the colder season, has turned gloomy adding a crisp note to the evening air. However, amongst the rain-cloud filled days, we've had some warm, sunny surprises - an explosion of sudden autumn colour. It is mushrooming and chestnut picking season. It is the time of year when we dry-clean the summer doona and air out the winter, down bedding. The summer clothes are all washed and carefully folded away. We rediscover the joy of wearing whimsical hats.

Nick and I went walking in the hills on the weekend and stopped at a village grotto for dinner. It is the season of venison, delicate and tender, cooked in a rich gravy of wild mushrooms and Merlot wine. In the evenings we play backgammon at the kitchen table and on rainy Sunday afternoons we go to the indoor pool or the cinema.

Work has been demanding for both of us. Nick spending a fair bit of time in Milan (he stays overnight), and me getting stressed out trying to cope with a full-time workload while only working part-time. We both feel we're in a no-win situation - no matter how much time and effort we devote to our respective jobs, nothing will ever change or improve. This lack of progress is both tiering and boring. We're sick of living in this crammed little flat and miss the cultural pull of the big city. (The reason the Luganese are so obsessed with shopping and material possessions is because there is nothing more stimulating to distract them?) We do our best to enjoy ourselves, but something always seems to be missing. Nick misses his mates and my creativity suffers from lack of stimuli. In the end, we feel the only reason we'?re still here is Nick's career. Frankly, that's not good enough anymore. In terms of lifestyle, this is not a balanced situation.

Consequently, we have decided that the time has come. We always knew it would, one day, sooner or later. We even tried to do it once before, only to post-pone. The thought of such a drastic, revolutionary change is scary; but at the same time, it is tempered by a huge sense of relief. A breath of fresh air.

As the wise man said: "there cannot be progress without change".

After six years abroad, sharing these four walls, having explored all the work opportunities we possibly could, having saved our pennies, wined and dined, traveled far and away, exchanged precious gifts under a real Christmas tree (the scent of resin and beeswax candles filling the snow-silent night), we feel we have lived well here, made the most of it and finally, exhausted our motivations to stay.

For this reason, Nick and I will be packing up our stuff and getting ready for the Big Move at the start of next year. I cannot believe the time has finally arrived - it really hasn't sunk in yet. But I know that after you all returned to Australia, we both felt that, that is where we needed to be too. We didn't want to be left behind; to postpone this departure any further would have just been a waste of valuable time. (Life's too short!)

Well, after feeling as if I've been sleepwalking for the past 12 months I'm suddenly waking up again; returning to the stream of life, like a groggy lizard thawing out in the sunshine after a long hibernation. I'm looking at things with new eyes and feeling so happy that I'll no longer have to endure the thousand daily humiliations at work! (Farewell Xanax.) I sense my energy unblocking; I'm overcome by an enormous sense of freedom, thanks to all the new possibilities that lie ahead.

For a year now, I've been utilizing the wellness area in my gym. While I lie with my feet elevated in the banana lounge, wrapped in a bathrobe, my hair twisted into a towel, an itchy facemask drying against my skin, I sip herbal tea and stare at the decorative mural that covers two of the walls before me. The mural depicts an almost life-size slice of a tropical beach scene. There are flowering red hibiscus bushes, and palm trees with their fronds yielding to the ocean breeze, white foamy waves breaking against the sand barrier, a seagull about to plunge into the water and in the back, an infinite blue ocean under a wide open sky. As I lie there, staring at this wall painting, trying to forget my stresses at work, I hear the sound of the wind bowing though the palm leaves and scatching the surface of the water. I hear the rumble of the surf against the shore and the cry of the distant seagull. I recall the scent of a northern Queensland beach, that mix of salt and algae in the strong air; the smell of sunshine against the sand.

That image, those experiences, are what I associate with Australia, that is to me, the essence of what I recognize and love the most about the land.