In the last blog I wrote on retirement (in November) I dwelt on the pain of separation from a community – in my case a school – that I had been part of over the past nine years. In fact, this was almost my last blog to date as since then I have been going through another type of pain: moving house.
Stressors in life
It is said that the three most stressful things people go through in their lives (apart from some extraordinary tragedy) are bereavement, the break-up of a marriage (or long-standing relationship) and moving house. In our 42 years of marriage, my wife and I have lived in eight different places across three separate countries and changed house 17 times. I didn’t particularly rate, in advance, the latest house move as being especially traumatic – after all we were ‘only’ moving within England this time – but I was wrong! It has led to a great sense of weariness – not just physical but also mental, even spiritual. This has accounted for my silence as far as blogging is concerned.
Moving on
I have tried to analyse why this last move has been so tiring and draining. There are some obvious clues: I’m older now than when we last moved some eight years ago; I have just retired as a Headmaster and I am still adjusting to a new status and state of being; we hadn’t had a good clear-out since 1995 when we left Scotland for England and put far too much in storage in 2000 when we went to India – and then had no time to sift through this when we returned to the UK in 2009 and straight into another school post: until now! Furthermore, we first put our house in Hampshire on the market in April 2018 expecting to sell over the summer and to move to the Midlands in early Autumn: how naïve we were! We eventually moved in January 2019 and only now, two months later, is there some sense of a lifting of fatigue.
Even more fundamental than the ‘clues’ above, has been what on the surface appeared to be a release: for the first time in our married and working lives we have been at liberty to choose where we wanted to live. No longer was there a tie to a teaching post – and in most cases to a boarding community – and thus, as they say, ‘the world was our oyster’. Sadly, the ‘pearl’ was not immediately clear to see and even now the ‘grit’ in the body of the clam is still being worked over as, I hope, the ‘pearl’ is being created. A decision to move nearer to family made sense, as did a location more into central England in view of the itinerant part-time post I am taking up next month. All of this seemed ‘sensible’ but it hasn’t really accounted for the other stressors.
New beginnings
It is apparent that, unlike when we have moved to be part of a new school community, we are now having to create a brand new fellowship in a fresh town, neighbourhood and church without the luxury of there already being one there pre-formed for us to be a part of. Learning names, finding shops and services, coping without the regular routine of the school day, term and year and managing on a pension have all taken their toll. In God’s strength, we are resilient and also convinced that we are in the right place at the right time – but this hasn’t prevented a sense of loss nor a bewilderment at the new surroundings in which we find ourselves. Some will say ‘time heals’: I don’t believe it’s the time which is the healer, only God, but it is true that this can take time to feel and to embrace. Re-starting my blog, if only for my own health, is a sign that things are stabilising but there is still some way to go. ‘Further up and further in’, as CS Lewis puts it in The Last Battle: gradually my new environment will become clearer and more familiar – and it will also be exciting and invigorating even if that’s not just yet!







