Personal

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/ Paul Manson / Leave a comment

H2G2 UK front cover.jpg

I have a habit of stating the obvious which – if you’re smarter than me – guarantees that you’ll think me an idiot. But if you’re around the same degree of smartness, those obvious utterings can sometimes be mistaken for insights.

So it just occurred to me today that the iPhone really is the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. My daughter, Alex, has been saying this for some time, but in the past I’ve always nodded and carried on staring at the screen, ignoring the significance of her words. So today, she spelled it out for me:

  • I used it to navigate across a new city, with its cute French accent burbling directions in my pocket as we walked
  • I read some (non-Vogon) poetry on it, while waiting for the castle in Ghent to open at 10am
  • I used the Babelfish function to translate the Flemish name of the fish I was about to eat for lunch
  • I asked it to compare the price of lunch in Euros, Pounds and (inexplicably) Altarian dollars
  • I took a photo of an alarmingly long caterpillar and it told me what species it was
  • We even saw a Hitchhiker’s Guide field researcher working on updating the Guide (OK, it was a poor guy with a Google backpack and a minder to keep him from getting mugged or pelted with Belgian chocolates, but the idea was the same … he even looked a bit like Ford Prefect from a distance).

And every day it’s the same … I wouldn’t travel the Galaxy without it. But most convincingly of all, ask it any question on Earth and the best answer Siri can come up with is: “mostly harmless”.

Douglas Adams’ vision has been fulfilled. Don’t forget your towel.

Home is … where exactly?

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Springlock Cottage Lawns MownHaving just moved to a new home in a new country – for the 6th time – I find myself wondering what “Home” really means.

When our children were younger, I would have defined “Home” as being the house where we (all) lived as a Family. But with Jonathan and Alex at University in different countries, that definition doesn’t really cut it anymore.

At various times I’ve used the word “Home” to mean my Homeland (New Zealand), my student accommodation, my shared apartments, the houses we’ve owned, and the houses we’ve rented. I’ve even started to refer to a Chateau we’ve lived in for a week or so as “Home” (somewhat wistfully).

But it’s not Place that turns a house into “Home”. It’s the people in that Place, and their proximity to your heart. So Home is a much more fluid and flexible space than it once seemed to be.

A couple of days ago, my wife defined “Home” as “anywhere your WiFi connects automatically”, and I think there might be something in this definition.

Anywhere I’m feeling secure enough to use the WiFi connection, I’ve pretty much made myself “At Home”!

Change Is Good

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As I contemplate moving countries for the 6th time in my life, I am struck with how easy and normal it seems.

Sure, there’s stuff to be managed and the inevitable snags when setting up new bank accounts, new telephone numbers and selling old cars. But it’s also refreshing: a chance to slough off the skin of a old life and start afresh.

Admittedly, it’s the first time in nearly 25 years that we have moved countries on our own dime, with the need to pack, freight and unpack everything for ourselves.

But that is also a blessing in disguise, because it provides a powerful incentive to assess each possession carefully. We’re disposing of lots of stuff that has, in the past, just made its way from country to country, without undergoing much in the way of scrutiny.

Now we’re only keeping what we really want to keep, and that’s powerfully liberating.

Most people admit – if forced – that “change is good”. But they admit it with a grimace.

Not me. Change = big, wide smile.

Spring-cleaning and Memories

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Spring

This week we start the process of moving to a new home, in a new country. We get the keys for our new house in the UK (and we have an overlap of a month before we vacate our house in France, so that’s time for a couple of car-loads tied in with other trips, and then a big truck-load at the end of May to take care of the larger furniture and appliances).

Springtime seems perfect for a big move: new growth everywhere; new colours; even the air seems new.

And spring is a great time to clear out lots of old clutter from past years and past lives. In our case that’s doubly enforced, as we are moving to a house that’s less than half the size of our current home.

Some people struggle to let go of old treasured possessions, but I find it liberating. Sure, there are some special things that I would not want to lose … at least not yet (childrens’ toys, their school projects). But these are truly “sentimental”, by which I mean that it’s the sentiment that I associate with the object that’s of value. I rarely see some of these objects from one year to the next, but they trigger the memories and feelings instantly when I do.

The most valuable possessions of all are our memories, and the space for these is still expanding …

Future and Past

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“It strikes me that this may be one of the differences between youth and age: when we are young, we invent different futures for ourselves; when we are old, we invent different pasts for others.”

– Julian Barnes, The Sense Of An Ending

Time to turn this one on its head, I think … I still have plenty of personal futures yet to invent!

Blenheim Palace Estate – Home, Sweet Home.

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Blenheim Palace - Home, Sweet Home.

New Life. New Home in a New Country. New Blog …

With my life in France coming to an end very soon, it’s a time for looking forward and thinking deeply about how I’d like the second half (I’m optimistic!) of my life to unfold.

I’ve never been one who felt the need to live my life in public. Maybe I’m still not. But it seems like it might be fun to try something else that’s new … like a Blog.