The term ‘a new life’ should really only ever be used of babies, since whatever major adjustments you might make to your existence, you’re still carting a whole lot of luggage and experience with you.
Still, my own existence has changed quite a bit of late, and since I got back from my month of liberating limbo walking St Olav’s Way, I’ve been settling into a pretty different world from the one I’m used to.
After spending most of my adult life as a resident of central London, I am now living in a small village just outside Whitby, up in North Yorkshire. It’s not an unfamiliar place – in fact I’ve been coming to this cottage since I was born, and I spent most of my summers here when I was growing up – but I imagine there’s a significant difference between visiting somewhere on holiday and actually living there.
This change has been a long time coming, and as well as a bid to get closer to the moorlands and seaside that I love so much, it’s also an attempt to shift my working life a little back towards the creative. At the very least, it would be nice to work in such a way that time is something I can create for myself when I need it, rather than continually having to wrestle it back from the early hours.
It’s a bit of an experiment, and success is not guaranteed, but as I sit at my bright desk by the window, I remain quietly hopeful.