I have stopped. Motion ceased. I flew out of Sydney just under 3 weeks ago. Catsitting in London. Familiar surroundings but nothing of home. Stopping. I have spent days in the flat doing nothing, or reading. Days out, times catching up with London friends. Stopped. A breather from living.

A chance to listen to myself.

In the last few weeks I have had a whole bunch of moments; stopping points where the world has caught up. It’s been good.

In Oz, it is my birthday, not quite yet in Europe. I have received one “happy birthday” message and it was very welcome, from someone I continue to care about. Tomorrow the 21st, Europe time, I fly to Milan and will have a birthday dinner with library folk.

I am at rest.