I now enter my 12th week of living full time on the Isle of Mull in Tobermory and that’s not a great deal of time when I think about it. Roughly two and a half months. And what a good two and a half months, with each day getting better and better. And what is better?
Better is a sense of peace, where I don’t miss the rush, the litter, the depravation, the claustrophobia, and behaviour of people in Tameside and Dukinfield where I last lived after we sold the house in Mossley. I don’t wish to slag off or critise Tameside, but the district of Manchester is a result of its governance and people.
It’s Council is Labour, and from my own experience is too long in power, untouchable, and pooly run with a number of Councillors riding a gravy train.
It’s residents seem for the most part not to have an interest in where they live, or the people around them. A crying shame for those that do care.
It is said that one should not do a geographical to escape unhappiness as you only take your head with you, but in some cases that is not the case and I can safely say the move out of all of the sh*t in both Mossley and Dukinfield was the most inspired and correct thing to do.
But it all comes down to change and the adage, “nothing changes, if nothing changes”. Embrace change as this is what I did. Is it frightening? Yes. Is it unpredicatable? Yes Can it go wrong? Yes.
My advice is do something of change that you have dreamed of, but never had the courage to carry out. Take that leap of faith.
