I'm sitting on my balcony, wrapped in my grey fleecy blanket. It's pouring down in London, but warm. A half finished cup up of Early Grey tea - now almost cold - at my right hand side. I can see the arch of Wembley Stadium out to my right, partly obscured by the horse chestnut tree that's in full leaf. And the red geranium plant adds a splash of beautiful colour to my morning.
Below, I can hear that noisy sound of cars driving through the rain and I'm wondering whether the weather will put anyone off going to cast their "leave" or "remain" vote today.
I've been in this apartment for nearly eight full years. There are so many good things about this place. Wonderful neighbours who'd do anything to help me out. An unusual level of convenience and proximity to transport, grocery stores, shops, cafes and entertainment. A community centre and a doctors surgery a stone's throw away and a green roof outside the apartment which attracts a few birds which I love to sit and watch.
The apartment is large, bright, warm and easy to maintain. Over the last 8 years I've accumulated everything I could possibly need.
And now, surrounded by the packed up boxes that are a constant reminder of my imminent departure, I can't help but ask questions about why this feels so necessary. Why, when there is everything here and so much comfort, would I choose to leave for...I don't know where.
I'm not a traveller. I hate to move from place to place. I value a base, some level of continuity, and a sense of belonging. The last thing I want to do right now is travel the world. Thinking back to 2013, when I packed up my things and left my apartment for a year, one of the strongest memories I have is that of being lonely.
Often, I'm my own worst enemy. Both craving and detesting being alone, the balance isn't always an easy one to find.
And yet here I am determined to leave behind all this for an entirely uncertain and unplanned future.
The only true answer I have right now is because I long for the unknown. I long for the unfamiliar and the uncertain and all the magic I know is possible in that place. I thrive on stories and interactions and, whilst there's certainly no shortage of that in London, I know that forcing myself into entirely new and foreign environments will make my experiences sharper, brighter and stronger.
Leaving my job four years ago was good for me in so many way. But perhaps what it did most of all was allow me to develop a certain comfort with risk and the unknown. I learned that there are no wrong paths. The only time I can truly go wrong is when I don't move at all. When I get too scared to go left or right or straight on or even backwards.
Not all the paths I choose will be full of good things. But they'll always be full of opportunities for learning and growth. And that's really all I'm here for anyway.
And I believe that's what you're here for too.
So today, I'm not asking or telling you to quit your job or sell your house, but I am asking you to take a look at where you're standing still in life. Where you've become so afraid of change or leaving something behind that your life is stagnating.
And then to decide to move. To pick a direction and move into it. To embrace the unknown and uncertainty. To understand that there are no wrong paths, only opportunities for understanding yourself a little better.
Love and courage,