Ch...Ch...Ch...Ch...CHANGES

I had a dream about Bowie last night.

I've been having incredibly vivid dreams in the last 2 weeks. Last night I was at a party in a Gothic hotel owned by big Dave himself, where you were allowed to roller skate in the halls, and my old school friend was gluing cheese biscuits to a door.

Now, it felt tenuous, but I wondered if my strange and disturbed nights are stress related. I thought I would start with, of course, Google:

Please don't let me be pregnant. Please, please, please. WHY DID I GOOGLE IT!?

That's one theory according to a couple of the hokey listicles I found, but stress, along with illness, depression, the taking of certain drugs, and menopause can all apparently have the same effect.

Now, before I panic, I am going to assume that over pregnancy (and hopefully the others as well), my dreams are more likely linked to stress, if there is any link at all. You see, it's all change in camp St. George. 

As of the 14th November, I'll be leaving old London town and moving to Cambridge. 

Sorry if you were expecting something more grand, like I'm packing up my worldly possessions to go and live in Patagonia or something. But remember my post about starting small? Baby steps? Figuring out what I want to do? (No? Pffft. Go on, have a read).

Well this is a step. And actually it feels quite big as I'll also be moving in with my partner as well, and last time I did that it was the beginning of the end of a relationship and left me a little fragile. Also, as some of you will sympathise, leaving London is weird and hard. It tries to hold onto you, and you have to get a crowbar and prise yourself away from it's bright lights and promises. 

And even though you complain about it regularly, the smug sense of being a 'Londoner' will threaten to keep you here indefinitely and no amount of mocking from those outside the M25, laughing at your rent prices, will convince you otherwise.

I was one of these people, but in the last year London has started to feel less and less like my place.

Go on, get all Samuel Johnson on me, I know you want to.

I'm not tired of life, I'm tired of paying extortionate amounts of cash to live in a shoebox or with strangers with irksome habits. I'm tired of the traffic, the pollution, the tube, how long it takes to get everywhere, of dancing with death every time I cycle, of rudeness, and the sheer amount of people. I was walking out of London Bridge yesterday and it felt more like I was trying to battle my way through the hoards at Glastonbury than trying to get to work.

The bads have crept out in front of the goods, and although London will retain a big piece of my heart, thanks to it's kookiness, it's inimitable variety and charm, and all the ways it made me grow, it's time for a new chapter. 

So we have moving house, moving to a new city, moving in with a partner. The biggest contributor to my anxiety though is probably what I do about work. I've been dreading talking to my boss. But the transition has to begin, even though essentially I have no idea what I'm doing and what to do next. 

The arrangement I have now thankfully come to will give me 2 extra days a week to explore whatever paths I feel the need to explore, which I think will be food based. Food is something I'm passionate about, and the impact I'd like to have in my corner of the world is getting more people to eat healthy, tasty, local and seasonal food that is sourced ethically.

Cambridge has a wonderful but still growing independent food scene so it should be a good place to start. Also, look how pretty:

Photo credit: http://www.jamesappleton.co.uk/ 

Good job mate. 

Stuck

I've never felt quite so frustrated.

I seem to be joining what are apparently swathes of unsatisfied corporate employees who aren't content to have their office job, collect their pay, and just be grateful. The (largely) middle class hoards who have climbed a ladder, plateaued, and are now smashing their work mobiles into their faces wailing, 'there must be more to life than this!'

And I'm not imagining this trend. This exodus by so many is evidenced by, for example, specialist career service Escape the City, who boast having 219,355 people on their books trying to break free of their corporate shackles. The Guardian (naturally) has a whole section about these types called, 'I Gave It All Up'.

Whether it is to start a business, forge a new path in something meaningful, or just selling up and jetting off, it seems many aren't content to settle for 'meh'. 

Although I'm teetering on the edge of chucking it all in, my problem is that I'm staring into an abyss and shouting, 'what the hell do I do instead then?' It's incredibly frustrating to feel so dissatisfied with where your choices have taken you, but not know how to begin to fix it.

How do I 'live my dreams' (as vapid, 'inspirational' quotes posted by morons on Instagram keep telling me to), if I don't know what my dream is?

So, as someone who is not 100% sure they want to live in a yurt in Wales keeping bees, I started by poking around on the internet. Escape the City was the first 'what should I do with my life' resource I came across. I bought their manifesto which contains some useful tips about overcoming certain barriers like fear, inexperience and money that keep you stuck. Their jobs board is good too, and as much as I'd love to take part in their 'Escape Tribes' that help you 'find direction and transition towards more fulfilling work', unfortunately I don't have £2,250 in my back pocket. Looks fun though.

But before job sites and start-up network events can be useful, I need to figure out what the hell I want to achieve.

I came across a pretty wonderful book via the equally wonderful Brainpickings called The Crossroads of Should and Must by Elle Luna, which aims to help you discover your passion. It's process helps to draw out your true interests and curiosities as seeds of what you ultimately would enjoy doing, then advises on how you grow these in a practical sense. It's why I bought a journal, make scribbled notes to myself about things I like/dislike and decided to keep a blog.

Not that being a full time blogger is what I want to ultimately do or anything (that is a very noisy world), but jotting down my thoughts, feelings, and rants is a very cathartic process that helps me see things more clearly. Additionally, it indulges a silly and creative side that I'd pretty much forgotten about in my boring 9-5 existence.

As a result, my current position is thus:

1. I'm aiming to focus my interests using the power of the BLOG.
2. I don't want to spend 8 hours a day at a desk 
3. I am interested in working outdoors, working with food, promoting sustainable living, being kinder to others and the world I live in.
4. I like the idea of organising events or festivals, bringing people together to connect and have a jolly old time.

I'm not sure how this manifests yet, but I'm contacting relevant bodies to try and get some experience through volunteering or part time work. Seeing as starting again is fairly terrifying, I think that taking small steps, meeting new people, and seeing what doors open is a good approach.

As someone with no house or assets to sell, no expensive habits I can quit, or a rich relative about to die, money will be a barrier at some point...I'll cross that bridge when I come to it and let you know how it goes.

Finally, I hope you don't think me ungrateful. I'm thankful for the good things in my life because, well, I'm not a monster. But, when the best response I can muster to the question 'how are you' is, 'Yeah, OK, thanks' then something needs to change. I'm fed up of seeing myself become bitter as a result of spending every day anxious, often unhappy, and then seeing these ripples of negativity affect those around me. Clearly, I am not alone.

So, here I am at the very start of my journey, wanting to make something of myself, be happier, and send out positivity. It'll be a slog, figuring this out. There'll be failures, I imagine it'll be all sorts of emotional. But that'll be OK, and I have a feeling it'll be worth it in the end.