What do you do when the differences are bigger than the little things?
We are all different right? We are all individuals, each and everyone one of us a sum of our environment and experiences and how we face it all.
Each of us have our thoughts and our secrets and our wants and desires and we all express ourselves our own way. We all wear our labels and fit inside our own individual pigeon holes, whether or not we have attached those labels to ourselves or have flapped our wings and landed in those pigeon holes by choice or chance.
And that is about as philosophical as I ever get. For all our individualism, we are all more or less the same at the end of the day. What set’s us apart from the person next to us are the decisions we make. The choices we mull over, routes we head down, both as individuals and as collectives. Groups like families.
I have a mate who, with his Mrs, bundled up two kids under the age of ten and headed off for a sojourn through South East Asia. A bold move many might think. A brilliant one I reckon. Still, the travails of travelling in a part of the world like that could do many in, let alone having two little ones to look out for. Apart from that, many might think two kids in tow could well prove an impediment to a good time. But hey, if you are travelling in your 40’s, you ain’t hopping the Contiki bus in a hurry or heading out clubbing.
But a bold move like that was obviously reached as a consensus. Same way as entering into a mortgage, buying a new car, choosing a mattress or deciding which Netflix series you want to feast on for the evening.
So when change is on the horizon, when options are made available and you are forced to look at where you are now, where you fit in that here and now, and where everyone slides in and around you, neatly or otherwise, the thinking cap goes on and one of those decisions, or a series of them, need to take place. I am not referring to the little things, the everyday things. Standing in a supermarket isle and choosing between toothpastes, making a call over one brand vs another, whether to mow the lawns or get the washing in, Chinese or Pizza.
Everyday we are faced with the minutiae, the bits and pieces. Most of those calls are made with little or no thought. Sometimes we get it wrong and often, in a family dynamic, even those seemingly inconsequential things can lead to more debate and argument than might at first seem necessary. I prefer clove honey. I am the only one in the family it seems. We don’t eat clove honey. I prefer Tasty cheese. We eat Mild. I like to walk under a bush canopy, we end up walking on the beach. Inconsequential stuff and easily enough worked through. There isn’t much course for things to go too far wrong.
But, what of the big calls? What, when things arise meaning big change, big differences, to the way you are living your life at present? Quite apart from needing to think things through rationally, especially before opening your mouth, you also need to be aware of all the nuances that can trip you up. It is impossible to tick every box, to have thought of every little thing. And, it is impossible to look at a major change completely impartially. I say, don’t try to.
Our time in the north is coming to an end. No secret, as far as the future of our kids go, this ain’t the place. Even if the next level of schooling was up to the task, what then? Where is the career pathway, where is the solidity and dependability needed to nurture youth into the bright young things of the future? Done that subject to death you are probably saying and you are probably right. So come the end of the year, we are moving on, like it or not.
I don’t like it. I mean to say I do like it. I like it here. I like the climate, I like the scenery, I like the harbour and the wildlife it attracts and I like the locals and I like the quiet and the night sky and the laid back lifestyle and the warm rain and the relative isolation without having to be far from anywhere.
So there we have it. Opportunity calls for the other half, the extras that can and will provide for our kids and here is me, stuck in the mud (literally at times in a good old Northland winter). The calls in life Wifey and have made to date have led us here. This place, this time, this space in our lives. We are happy enough, as settled as we ever get.
I am 45 this year. My wife is rapidly approaching forty, far quicker than she would like I think. Thing is, I can’t remember a place we have settled for than a year or so since we left my home town. My wife’s feet itch more than if she was standing atop an ant hill and the word settle, for her, is a foreign language. But this old boy needs to take root. I have not felt truly part of a community in years. I have no social standing, no grounding in the sanctity of mate-hood. No sense of belonging, no true knowledge of my surroundings. Life has been all about fleeting glimpses, snatched views and shuttered glances.
Not working, being the stay home parent is a part of it. At times it really does feel like my life is on hold and while there is no resentment, no regret, it would be good to get back on the horse or the bike or the wagon or whatever it is I am supposed to ride off into retirement. In a community like here, it is possible to survive on one income. Survival is all it is though, week to week, pay cheque to pay cheque. There is no getting ahead, no saving, no rainy day slush fund. No fancy extras like island holidays, just concern over how much of a stretch it will be to fill up the fuel tank. it is a lifestyle choice more than anything else and one which would most likely fail in a city like Auckland where the cost of housing alone would be too much of a burden to carry.
That is of course, if you like a modicum of that same said lifestyle. We eat quite well, can have a drink, always pay the bills and there are things like internet and phones and the kids have presents and are clothed and so on. We don’t dine out, we don’t go to the movies and we don’t do anything that could remotely be termed as extravagant. In this household there are sacrifices made around the bigger things, so that the little, everyday bits and pieces bring a level of comfort to our day to day.
But, and for me it is a big but, is the grass any greener elsewhere? And how much sacrifice is too much? When does giving up a little of yourself for the greater good become an impediment to your own well-being? I guess I am not far off finding out. Time to weigh up the options, put them against opportunity cost. The good old pro’s and con’s list, personally and then as a family group. Identify the common ground and look for compromise.
I don’t want to go.
We’ll be on the Gold Coast by the new year.