While the US has had a momentous change, I’ve had my own minor ones in recent weeks.
Almost three weeks ago I moved out of the dreaded house in Chatswood and into a place in Cammeray with Adrian, an Irish guy from work who I’ve known as long as almost anyone in Australia, and his girlfriend Ashley. Pretty much everything about the place is an improvement; I’m a 20 minute walk from work, so no more weekly train cost or sweaty packed train rides home, I actually enjoy hanging out in the living room and visiting with my roommates, the place doesn’t reek of mold and stale cigarette smoke, the list goes on. I didn’t even really mind when one of Ashley’s dogs (which live at her mother’s) pissed on the corner of my comforter. I actually feel like I have a base, instead of just a place to sleep.
The past couple weekends have been up and down. Weekend before last was climbing in the Blues again, which is always stunning. Standing at the top of these limestone cliffs, especially with the exposure of standing on the barest of edges some 200 feet above the forest floor, looking out over massive rimrock-lined valleys of eucalyptus, is by far my favorite part of being here. This is something I can get nowhere else, and I hope to get more of it in the coming months.
Unfortunately, that’s not quite certain, since the following weekend my usual climbing partner flipped out on a night on the town and has sworn off our friendship, or even talking to me again. This is a disappointing setback, but frankly, I’d rather it happen on the sidewalk in Kings Cross at 2AM than at the anchors of our 3rd pitch with daylight dwindling.
Change is good, even when it’s not the change you hope for or expect. It reminds you to not be complacent.