Lodger

I have a new lodger, a friend of a friend, and I don't quite know what to make of him. In his early to mid forties, he's an intense sort of a guy. A former psychotherapist who's decided to give up the rat race.


He's suspicious of government, systems, taxes and the like. If you don't pay tax, who pays for your medical care or for the roads to be fixed? Surely we're all in this together? I don't doubt that many systems in our world are corrupt, but rejecting them all seems impractical to me. Surely we have a collective responsibility?

I digress....

He's got ME, and I can sympathise with that having had an oft named and unresolved fatigue type illness/condition/whatever in my very early twenties. He doesn't work and has just sold his house in the south, with an ambition to move abroad and live a self sustaining life.

He seems to be a believer in the alternative medicine sphere. And, why not? If something helps you feel better, whatever it is, then we must all do what is right for us.

I just don't know what to make of him. My previous lodgers have been friends or weekday residents. But, he'll be here full time for the next two to six months. The extra cash is nice, although losing my space will be a challenge.

I am a broad minded person, whose life and career are not founded on the material or selfish. Part of me admires his goals of an alternative life, but the other part of me values the society and community I am part of and recognises her need of some home comforts and frivolity. I try not to judge the choices of others.

I think it's good for me to have someone else around. Living alone is a very self indulgent way to exist and really rather too nice! Reminding myself how to share my space and compromise can only be good practice for when the time comes when I finally find someone to rub along with permanently.

In the meantime my flat feels like a health food shop. There are aromatherapy oils and weird food supplements in the fridge whose names I cannot pronounce.

Have I let the right person into my home?

Marooned in Marrakech

I guess this will be the first of a string of ramblings from Morcco. Courtesy of a series of other people's inefficiencies we're stuck in Marrakech when I should have reached Spain and my flight home today. Lucy, the beautiful 1974 VW camper van, is still in the garage.


It's been an unexpected week in this city of contrasts, and in many ways blessed, although a little frustraing. Worse for my companion than me. I wish I could fix it but I can only sit back and offer what small words of comfort I can and distract as much as possible.

I have now rescued my laptop from the van. Not writitng has made me realise the place it has in my life and the space I need to let things out and away.

Travel - places and people

On Thursday I'm off to Morocco to join a friend who's travelling there in his 1974 VW camper van. We'll hang out in Marrakesh for a few days then head north to Spain. What a lovely adventure.

I'm very much looking forward to visiting this amazing country again, and spending time with someone whose company, daftness and views of the world I enjoy.

Some of my friends think I'm crazy for taking the trip. Why?

He is an ex boyfriend.

Not only is he an ex, but he is an ex who hurt me quite badly because of the sudden way our relationship ended.

Some people think I shouldn't be his friend because of our past. But, why give up on someone who brings something to your life? I'm being selfish, not generous. He is someone who gets my inner geek. He makes me laugh. He makes me think. Our friendship has been hard won. It has required unearthing of unresolved arguments, and reshaping how we relate to each other.

Others are more understanding of my attitude.

Others blame the fact that he is a widower for the demise of our relationship. Don't they realise that neither he or I are perfect? No matter what our pasts contain. We failed to communicate well enough and to work at making it work. The timing was bad. Blame is pointless. It happened. Sad.

I would be mad to reject someone from my life because a particular aspect of it didn't work out. I wouldn't be going on an adventure if I had.

As one of only three 'real' people who know about my scribblings, he will read this. And that' s ok. Or maybe I am crazy after all....

Waiting....

Ok, the elation of having a new world at my feet has somewhat subsided in face of having to sort out the details of it all. Procedures, confidentiality and secrets restrain me. I can't share with those whose company in which I spend my days. I want to end my discomfort and thiers but until the detail has been determined, I am bound.

I want to share my anticipation of the future and the sadness of losing those who have helped me craft and shape my skills, experience, and passions. I feel like I am betraying those memories by hiding behind procedures. There is no alternative. I want to let the words out, and thank them for all that they have given me of their knowledge and friendship and support. I must try to patient and dignified.