The drive to the hotel isn’t long. After staying at the Egypt Mill Inn, I’m wondering what’s next?
I’ve had another full day which I find myself in reflection of.
In many ways England feels very familiar, almost like home. Everywhere I go the feeling is warm and inviting.
I remind myself, most of my corporate career involved working for two English banks, Barclays Bank and National Westminster plus the countless online art courses I’ve taken with British artists.
This reflection suddenly makes me aware it’s been a while since I thought about home or the move that’s waiting for my attention when I return.
Why did I have to go there!? I was feeling so peaceful just a moment ago then BAM! My brain wants me to suffer; I’m having too much fun.
I recognize my mother in that statement, “Laugh too much now and you’ll be crying later”.
I was always bracing for the aftermath of a good time.
Why, I thought. That statement doesn’t even make sense to me now and yet it popped up as part of my living truth. Is this meant to quell the joy I was feeling and push me to feel like fun is bad?
Yes, I was hesitant to make this trip and have this experience because there was a part of me that thought I didn’t really deserve it. I offered resistance when it felt outside of my comfort zone with thoughts about how I’ll be perceived.
It seems ridiculous now that I even had that thought or played with the idea of not taking this trip due to fear.
And here I am, no fear, only joy.
What does that mean?
I feel the move waiting for me. What will it be like to move across the country and live in another state, especially one I’ve been so resistant to.
Was it just the weather I was saying no to, or was it the fear of leaving something comfortable, something known.
I’d be all alone except for Joe who’d pop in occasionally.
No friends or family around to judge me. No one to make a face if I’m having too much fun.
Was I afraid of feeling free?
I realized something.
I’m not feeling fear towards the unknown.
I’m feeling fear towards unbecoming the version of me that no longer feels like my truth.
In that moment, I smiled, knowing that it’s really the same thing.
It’s still the unknown, in some way, and just as exciting to test who I am when I’m really on my own.
I’m starting to unwind myself from the idea that there must be a plan.
A plan made me feel safe.
There it is again.
Control snuck in somehow.
In that moment an awareness hits me, this is coming from my head not my body.
Suddenly I think of my mother. She held a lot of fear.
Wow did that land! It was her perspective.
The need to plot out where I’m going, when I’m going, how I’m going, which then leaves room for me to not get it right in some way which meant I could miss the mark,
That was always in the back of my mind.
But there’s no such thing.
We had no plan and it was working.
I was having a great time riding the flow of life living in the moment for what came next.
And all the laughs came without crying!
Snapping me out of this deep reflection I hear a voice ask me if I’m hungry.
Of course I am!!
The conversation in the car now turns to our next location, which is the Billesley Manor Hotel, on the outskirts of the town we just left.
My hosts are excited to share it with me.
The first thing I noticed as we approached the hotel was fields upon fields of sheep. It was becoming less surprising and more welcoming.
In some odd way I found them comforting.
Maybe it’s because I love sweaters and sweater weather.
Silly sheep, something so simple yet satisfying to my heart.
We make a left heading up the road between two fields. The one on the right is no surprise, sheep fill the pasture.
Then I look to my left and see what appears to be the most perfectly landscaped lawn I’ve ever seen.
And then I see it!
The Billesley Manor Hotel!
It’s magnificent!
It doesn’t look like a hotel; it looks like someone’s estate. It feels like something out of a movie. I’m intrigued and completely in awe.
As we pull into the parking area, I see there are several stations to charge E cars. My mind is blown.
It seemed so out of place in this centuries-old hotel, and yet very relevant to today’s new cars.
I look back to the grounds as we head to the entrance in awe of a huge bonsai-looking tree that’s make a true statement against the backdrop of the moody sky.
I touch it. It feels important in some way.
Maybe it has stories to tell about all it’s seen in its many years in this spot.
I turn toward the manor and am in awe of the number of windows it has. It’s a very tall and long building, like something out of a fairytale.
I imagine a horse and carriage pulling up to the hotel with the Queen herself.
It felt so fancy to be here.
We walked into the hotel.
It was very palatial but not over the top, with very high ceilings.
The manor has a classic old world Tudor vibe to it.
I thought about what it might have been like to live there.
As we walked through the hotel, I noticed large doorways with each room we walked through; many were arched fitting perfectly with the décor and ambiance.
The ceilings had dark wooden beams running along the ceiling often intersecting with each other throughout the rooms.
It felt very rustic and welcoming making me feel as though the manor was trying to tell me I belonged to her in that moment.
I noticed a stone fireplace in most of the rooms we walked through.
We’d arrived late and didn’t have a reservation for dinner, but they were very kind and accommodating, squeezing us in at the last minute.
We quickly found our rooms and unloaded our luggage. Really not much, we had one suitcase each. I’ve never traveled this light, but it worked and I learned I don’t need much when traveling.
We had picked a spot to meet so we could head to dinner. It took me forever to find it with all the little nook and cranny staircases, hidden doorways and adjoining hallways running in every direction.
I was amazed at the maze-like intricacy of the manor. I expected nothing less and, truth be told, I would’ve been excited to stumble on a secret door.
The dining room was very large and opulent with old world paneling on the walls and incredibly high ceilings. There were people dining from all around the world, evident by the many languages being spoken.
We were seated at a table, handed menus and were talking about what to eat when I looked up to my left at the paintings on the wall.
I almost spit out my Earl Grey!!
Staring at me was a painting of a young Queen Elizabeth blowing a bubble with her bubblegum!! I was completely taken by surprise.
We all laughed!
Some of the paintings were very colorful, in many ways, wink wink along with traditional oil paintings for that period.
The waiter mentioned some of it was an ode to Shakespeare which wasn’t surprising by now.
We each had our own thoughts about the art agreeing it made the dining experience feel very uplifting instead of dark and foreboding.
We finished dinner which was wonderful and headed to our rooms.
Our rooms were on different floors and as I made my way back to my room, I had the same experience trying to find my way back.
I wondered what the builders were thinking to build a manor in this way, with hidden narrow staircases and hallways. Was this a thing back then? Did they enjoy secret rooms and hidden staircases, I wondered.
Once in my room I got myself ready for bed. We had an early start in the morning, and I wanted to be ready and presentable to meet my client who I’d been working with the last few months.
As I was lying in bed my thoughts drifted to the adventure I’d been on the last few days. I don’t remember a time in my life where I’d had an experience like this.
It was an honest to goodness road trip.
I grew up thinking there was only camping. That was my father’s idea of a vacation.
In a tent.
On the floor.
Yes, we had sleeping bags, but we slept in them on the floor.
The bathroom was usually far away in a remote area that you needed a flashlight to find should you have the need to go in the middle of the night.
It hit me in that moment of reflection, I realized I didn’t know what being adventurous was.
I thought camping equaled adventure.
I need to do this type of adventure more often.
No plan.
No fear.
No car breaking down.
Always a room to be had.
No getting lost.
No one arguing.
Plenty of snacks.
Still feeling in like with each other.
Lots of laughs.
No tears.
What was the difference?
Maybe it was different because this was normal for them. They mentioned they’d often pack a bag and roam through Europe without much of a plan.
That had to be it!
They felt an ease about not having it all fully planned out, no I’s dotted, no T’s crossed. Just get on the road and go because they knew it would all work.
This lands deeply!
I always wanted to be that kind of adventurer and now I was.
Suddenly I felt lighter.
A weight had lifted. The fear of the unknown that I was facing had vanished.
The next morning, I rolled out of bed ready to start the day feeling an even greater sense of adventure. My life was about to have some mystery woven in and it suddenly felt ok.
After breakfast we packed up our rooms, loaded the car and decided to walk the grounds before leaving.
We made our way out to the side of the manor. I noticed the trees and bushes were cut in the shape of chess pieces.
. 
How interesting.
Maybe my feeling of having lived here before in a past life was really about a sense of belonging I was feeling.
We returned to the car ready to go.
It was still moody and overcast and my beloved beautifully ginormous other worldly-looking bonsai-like tree, would stay in my heart forever!
Relaxing back into my seat we were off to the next adventure.
For now, I’m going to take in everything I’ve gained from this one night at the Billesley Manor.
One night.
No tears.
No fear.
Life needs to be lived.
And there it was…
An unexpected shift.
I’m arriving slowly, unpredictably.
Here.