Spring and change

It feels like the first official day of Spring in London. The air is sweet at 17C, it has been uncharacteristically sunny all day long, and, altough I'm in the office, I am savouring the spring. The first flowers of spring persist in my memory from yesterday's walk: it was Easter weekend and I took my camera and a book to St James' park. The cherry blossom is out and the daffodils cover the ground in incredible, generous yellow spreads. I still cannot believe this is spring for real and these are real flowers, but the day is definitely longer and I actually see the front door of my building when I go home - as opposed to getting there in the dark and wanting only to snuggle up and hibernate.

Today I had the first real proof of real Spring: a delicate whiff of cherry blossom scent, calling out to me on my way back from my lunch with my friend G. In my home Bucharest every season has a scent of its own, something I miss in London. Here I can only smell rain and wind. My spring means the scent of dry pavements, new, freshly washed dust, and flower scents. Finally, the cherry blossom scent that caught up with me took me right in front of the villa around which I'd walk in the spring evenings in Bucharest, taking some fresh air before some scary school test the following day.

I think the visible change in nature around us made us think about change. We talked today about change at lunch-time. G wants to move to another country. She has studied the language, religion, dances and literature of it, made friends there and visited it a few times, and now that she met someone who can potentially help her find a job there, she is scared. Scared of change, scared to move.

Why is it that all the people I know in London want to change, want to move, want to leave London? Is it that there are more opportunities here? Is it that the weather, the cloudy, windy, cold and changeable weather of London is so unfriendly it never lets you feel settled here, like the dry and warm climate of, say, Paris or Italy? Or is it that most of my friends are rolling stones, uprooted from one country to come and live here, and now always ready to change? Do we all feel that, once we have made the big change of country one time in our lives, we can always do it again? And, even, we should do it again? Why do we see change as so compelling and inevitable?

I don't know why, but I certainly feel uncomfortable sometimes to realise how comfortable my life is. It has been so uncertain and full of changes, of big shifts, for so many years, that now I wonder at its stability and think - "No, this can't last!".

For the past three, almost four years, I have been living in the same house, working at the same job, with no financial or visa worries. Yes, I changed from a long-standing relationship that lasted 6 years to another one - which is now one and a half years old. I almost envy myself for how stable everything in my life has been since this relationship started. One year and a half of a smooth, predictable, comfortable ride.

It hasn't always been like this. I am 30 this year. I came to Britain when I was sixteen, and between then and now, a parameter always had to change: I changed schools coming here, then I had to change to go to a university, this was plagued with uncertainty because of the university fees and what we could afford. Every year in university I felt uncertain - I didn't know if we could afford it, and then my father became ill and we were uncertain how long he would be alive. After university I was uncertain of the visa I could get for a job, it was in the times Romania wasn't part of the EU. My first job only lasted one year, and then another big change came with setting up in business on my own so I could get a working visa. Every year I had to have my visa renewed, and to work really hard to get new clients and stay in business. It feels like between the age of 16 and 27, that makes 9 long years, every year has been uncertain as to where I would be and what I would be doing. No wonder then that I still feel like I'm bobbing up and down on the waves of change, and I hold on for dear life to the little stability that I grabbed in the past few years, in the shape of my British nationality, my job, my little rented flat and my boyfriend. And my small circle of good friends and family.

I do relish this lack of change, this stability. Yet something in the back of my mind keeps saying - "No, you are lazy. You must change. This is not enough. This is too good to be true." But is it, really?

I change my routine often, always seeking novelty to colour my existence. Which makes me wonder: how much change do we need to enjoy stability? And what kind of change? Change, challenge.

Where in the years past, it used to be visa criteria that I had to fulfill, the only thing that I change now is the evening courses that colour my existence. I think this is what makes life in London pleasurable. I have gone through Italian, Spanish, German, Meditation, Gospel singing, Salsa, Bachata, Tango, Pilates, Creative Writing, Assertiveness and swimming. Even this can be too much sometimes, and for this season my new challenge will be the art of doing nothing. But more about this in the next post.

Let me know your feelings and stories about change and stability, and about Spring!