I’ve been made vocational on compulsion. Apparently, I had too many leave days left from last financial year and there is a new one already. With the new quote. For some reason I haven’t noticed I didn’t used up all my allowance and have been left with 15 days and an ultimatum to use it or loose it…(I have no idea how this happened, I’ve been under impression that I’ve been having too much of the off days because I didn’t feel overworked or something...speaking of having inadequate year, huh?) Anyway, when I booked 4 days of the leftovers last Friday, I didn’t even know where am I going to spend them. Mind you, the options were: stay at home or stay at home…well, next to those two was to travel down to the Essex, where my British days began their countdown. So I said to my boss last Friday: I’ll book the vacation, but should I change my mind over the weekend, I’ll be back to office. Saturday morning and I still wasn’t sure what to do…*and here is to illustrate just how indecisive I become…or maybe always been?* …eventually in the battle of laziness and boredom the staying-at-home alternative has lost and I found myself on the road…
I’m going to write something about Essex and about Suffolk, as one can always find interesting things if one sets up for finding them, right?...I’ve spend all my time with friends, meeting with people I haven’t seen for a while and the people I keep in touch regularly. It was nice to do the real catching up. And the same time it was wearing too. I’ve tried to define the reason for that strange feeling that rolled over me from time to time, bringing profound wish to be somewhere else rather then there…this happened few times while I was away. Don’t think it was triggered by anyone particularly though…just the way I felt…perhaps, the places we used to visit together, the people who used to know both of us…or, perhaps, it was completely different reason, who knows…Some time ago I was considering the option of relocating back to Essex, as I like it very much…this time it occurred to me that I’d rather not…perhaps, I’m turning into the Hermit and best to stick to my personal Burrow, where it is safely dimmed and warm enough to hibernate happily ever after…
Many places, many people, lots of talks…I can see how my friends are still confused and not sure how to speak to me…what to say, how to react to my words…I’m being understanding to their difficulties…and I’m thinking about how sensitive we could become when affected by one or the other personal issue…this is not just related to me, I observe it with other people as well. When you managed to survive a very personal drama, words being heard could come as not the words being said…the sensitive nature of the meaning picks the thorns out of the best intentions and pricks your skin, wearied thin already. I am trying to understand friends who are struggling in communication with me…though I also think about how about being understanding of me…like when someone said they haven’t reach out for a while because they were afraid of having to deal with my emotions…and I thought to myself, isn’t it that friends supposed to be there for you while you’re dealing with your emotions…how strange that our own fear of being unable to cope could come much stronger then our care for those we love…they are my friends and I do love them, as I always did…and so I’m being very understanding of their difficulties…
Something else I wanted to make a note of… one of the days in Essex I met with the widow of the ex’s professor.
Some people are in our life to make a serious change in it. The biggest change in my life happened when we moved from Russia to this Little Island. The man that made it happened was my ex's professor at the University of Essex Anthony Holt. When we came to England we had not a single sole here to meet and greet us, to help us out or show us the way to manage in the stranger's country...and it was Anthony who took personal care of us in our first year. And it was his wife and his kids, who took us under their wings and provided us with the daily survival guidance...his family became very dear to me. 6 years ago Anthony’s got sick - damn cancer eat his life energy away and the prognosis wasn't good at all...but Anthony was determined to beat it and he did for 6 years, when he was given only 6 months by his dr...on the 2nd of July he turned 71. He died on the 9th, giving in to the decease... Back in July I went to Essex for his funeral. It was the least I could do for the man that had such a huge influence on my life. I simply had to be there, to see and support his family, to pay my respects. I found this death to be an eerie "sign" as well as many other "signs" I've received lately...in a way Anthony represented that Beginning of the New Chapter of my life. And now, as the Chapter ends, he's gone as well...I can't help but feel the significance of this with all my skin…Anyway, that was my tribute to Anthony.
I’ve met with his widow for a lunch. And we talk, as we had a lot of catching up to do. It was a quality time. We talk of things one wouldn’t talk just with anybody…we both seemed free to express what we truly feel…one thing stroked me in our conversation when suddenly Ethna said to me: I think, it is harder for you then as if he would die…I was speechless…a woman who just lost her loved one, you can’t expect all the grief to pass…yet she was talking that her loss was somewhat “easier”…I know what she meant, she explained it to me. When you grieve for the dead, you are dealing with the loss that “happened” to you…you understand and accept that there was no your own fault in what has happened and that there was absolutely nothing you could’ve done to prevent this…in separation one is left with that sense of guilt, of what if, of what is wrong with me and a full spectrum of emotional inadequacy…in no way I’m comparing whose loss is bigger…I was just astonished to hear this from the woman who had her unrecoverable loss so recently…I think, for each of us there is a loss barrier…the limit beyond which we change because of that what we have lost. I believe to each of us that limit is different and like my other friend defined it, based on how much we invested emotionally into what we have lost…
I’m trying my best to live it…to practice what I preach...I’ve been trying to treat others the way I wish to be treated myself…it doesn’t work! It never did…maybe it is not the rule, but the Murphy Law – the rule that is not supposed to work by definition…they say you put yourself into the other’s shoes and then you’ll know exactly what to do…you don’t…or shall I re-phrase: you think you know, but you don’t…you imagine “if I’m to be that other someone, I’d fancy this and that…” but in reality the someone other then yourself would most likely like completely different things…too often we assume instead of just ask…why is it that humans always think they know better then the next human…
Ok, all the emotional stuff has now been dealt with and I can get on with the interesting stuff I managed to come across when travelling through Essex…later…
I’m going to write something about Essex and about Suffolk, as one can always find interesting things if one sets up for finding them, right?...I’ve spend all my time with friends, meeting with people I haven’t seen for a while and the people I keep in touch regularly. It was nice to do the real catching up. And the same time it was wearing too. I’ve tried to define the reason for that strange feeling that rolled over me from time to time, bringing profound wish to be somewhere else rather then there…this happened few times while I was away. Don’t think it was triggered by anyone particularly though…just the way I felt…perhaps, the places we used to visit together, the people who used to know both of us…or, perhaps, it was completely different reason, who knows…Some time ago I was considering the option of relocating back to Essex, as I like it very much…this time it occurred to me that I’d rather not…perhaps, I’m turning into the Hermit and best to stick to my personal Burrow, where it is safely dimmed and warm enough to hibernate happily ever after…
Many places, many people, lots of talks…I can see how my friends are still confused and not sure how to speak to me…what to say, how to react to my words…I’m being understanding to their difficulties…and I’m thinking about how sensitive we could become when affected by one or the other personal issue…this is not just related to me, I observe it with other people as well. When you managed to survive a very personal drama, words being heard could come as not the words being said…the sensitive nature of the meaning picks the thorns out of the best intentions and pricks your skin, wearied thin already. I am trying to understand friends who are struggling in communication with me…though I also think about how about being understanding of me…like when someone said they haven’t reach out for a while because they were afraid of having to deal with my emotions…and I thought to myself, isn’t it that friends supposed to be there for you while you’re dealing with your emotions…how strange that our own fear of being unable to cope could come much stronger then our care for those we love…they are my friends and I do love them, as I always did…and so I’m being very understanding of their difficulties…
Something else I wanted to make a note of… one of the days in Essex I met with the widow of the ex’s professor.
Some people are in our life to make a serious change in it. The biggest change in my life happened when we moved from Russia to this Little Island. The man that made it happened was my ex's professor at the University of Essex Anthony Holt. When we came to England we had not a single sole here to meet and greet us, to help us out or show us the way to manage in the stranger's country...and it was Anthony who took personal care of us in our first year. And it was his wife and his kids, who took us under their wings and provided us with the daily survival guidance...his family became very dear to me. 6 years ago Anthony’s got sick - damn cancer eat his life energy away and the prognosis wasn't good at all...but Anthony was determined to beat it and he did for 6 years, when he was given only 6 months by his dr...on the 2nd of July he turned 71. He died on the 9th, giving in to the decease... Back in July I went to Essex for his funeral. It was the least I could do for the man that had such a huge influence on my life. I simply had to be there, to see and support his family, to pay my respects. I found this death to be an eerie "sign" as well as many other "signs" I've received lately...in a way Anthony represented that Beginning of the New Chapter of my life. And now, as the Chapter ends, he's gone as well...I can't help but feel the significance of this with all my skin…Anyway, that was my tribute to Anthony.
I’ve met with his widow for a lunch. And we talk, as we had a lot of catching up to do. It was a quality time. We talk of things one wouldn’t talk just with anybody…we both seemed free to express what we truly feel…one thing stroked me in our conversation when suddenly Ethna said to me: I think, it is harder for you then as if he would die…I was speechless…a woman who just lost her loved one, you can’t expect all the grief to pass…yet she was talking that her loss was somewhat “easier”…I know what she meant, she explained it to me. When you grieve for the dead, you are dealing with the loss that “happened” to you…you understand and accept that there was no your own fault in what has happened and that there was absolutely nothing you could’ve done to prevent this…in separation one is left with that sense of guilt, of what if, of what is wrong with me and a full spectrum of emotional inadequacy…in no way I’m comparing whose loss is bigger…I was just astonished to hear this from the woman who had her unrecoverable loss so recently…I think, for each of us there is a loss barrier…the limit beyond which we change because of that what we have lost. I believe to each of us that limit is different and like my other friend defined it, based on how much we invested emotionally into what we have lost…
I’m trying my best to live it…to practice what I preach...I’ve been trying to treat others the way I wish to be treated myself…it doesn’t work! It never did…maybe it is not the rule, but the Murphy Law – the rule that is not supposed to work by definition…they say you put yourself into the other’s shoes and then you’ll know exactly what to do…you don’t…or shall I re-phrase: you think you know, but you don’t…you imagine “if I’m to be that other someone, I’d fancy this and that…” but in reality the someone other then yourself would most likely like completely different things…too often we assume instead of just ask…why is it that humans always think they know better then the next human…
Ok, all the emotional stuff has now been dealt with and I can get on with the interesting stuff I managed to come across when travelling through Essex…later…