Sometimes we don't want things to end…it could be a season of doing something novel and fun, like checking out a different retail space each week. Not that I've done that, although the eclectic stores in Haji Lane and Club Street beckon. On Club Street, there is an independent bookstore called Books Actually. It looks like the one where Hugh Grant’s character worked in Notting Hill the movie; crammed bookshelves, neat lighting, a wooden staircase, boxes of books. It is a place I plan to visit soon.
Or it could be a people thing; you strike up a friendship with someone from a nearby country who's come to visit on a project, and you discover you might have been good friends from another life.
Then it ends, because the person has to go back, you have commitments, etc. The friendship doesn't end, of course, not in this age of online social networking, but things change. I've discovered though, that sometimes the end of one thing is the beginning of another. Life is like a dollhouse with many different rooms. Some have doors which lead into other rooms, some don't. Where the rooms don’t connect is where the Divine hand comes in, like the girl who owns the dollhouse, and plucks you from the playroom and sets you down into the kitchen.
You are in one room, with wallpaper of green flocked velvet and a Charles Eames lounge chair, the one with the ottoman. Then events happen, you make certain choices, and consequently, changes come, abruptly and painfully. You find yourself being picked up out of that room, like a doll, and put into another room for which there is no connecting door.
Suddenly, you find yourself walking out into a wide open space, with sunshine and blue sky, a summer's day in an open field. And that green room you were in before somehow seems small and cloistered compared to where you are now. And you give thanks, and spin around and dance, for you are free.