So this is lunch today. A hipster inner city Sydney cafe. A plate of grainy looking things I can’t pronounce (and won’t even try to spell) sitting on my plate, a skull shaped mug of ginger and pineapple juice to sooth the combination of a bumpy pencil plane ride and a few too many chardy’s last night. Enjoying the free wi-fi and not caring about the grungy bathroom and venue that looks like it may have last been cleaned in 1985 when it was surely a crack house. (it’s hipster dahling).
I’m loving it. The food, people, culture explosion that couldn’t possibly be further removed from my everyday day. Good friends about to arrive and we’ll chat until the looming threat of post work commuters is too close and off we’ll go for an evening meal, more chats and eventually I’ll wrap myself up in the warm glow of spending time with kindred spirits.
I’ll remind myself that I’m not completely abnormal and there are others doing just what I am in the world – being mums, being entrepreneurial, struggling and winning, caring about community and balancing out survival with servitude.
It’s not that I don’t have friends in my country home, it’s not that I don’t spend time with like minded people there but it’s the whole experience of being in the city, being accessible, broad variety of choice and, OK, maybe being anonymous that’s just such a treat.
From time to time I ask myself what life would be like if I traded in my country life for city living. Would the kids have more opportunities? Would I have a bigger and broader social life? Would my business benefit? Are we missing out where we are?
It never takes too long to decide – would I trade beautiful and clean landscapes, warm and generous wrap around communities and space and freedom? No freakin’ way.
Country living certainly has its’ limitations but rather than pack up and leave my choice, every day is to appreciate the challenges as much as the benefits. There’s always holidays to experience the latter.