I was musing this morning on the question:
‘Was there a year in your life that was singularly and
profoundly pivotal?’
There was. It was the year I first moved to the countryside.
I could write a sizeable essay on how the being known as JJ
Beazley began a massive shift that year. I could talk about how his
relationship with the job he’d been doing for six years went into rapid and
steep decline, how he came to a love of freedom and a more Bohemian mindset,
how he started to see through the sham that most of us live, and how the focus of
his brain began to move from left to right.
For the purpose of a blog post, however, it will suffice to
say this:
I didn’t know what was going on at the time, and neither did
those around me such as my wife and colleagues. It’s only in retrospect that I
can see the picture clearly and understand the great significance of that day
when I moved into a cottage in the country. Now I can use it to understand how
I came to my present position, as well as the reason for much disturbance in my
past. And I’m sure this is broadly true of all of us.
So does it help?
Does it matter?
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