I've moved to a new area. It's in Hove actually, and it's quite different to where I was before in the little towns ten miles out of town. In Hove people seem less surprised to find a charity fundraiser on their doorstep of an evening. The houses are much closer together so I knock on more doors, and I'm met with more energy by the inhabitants (who also tend to be a bit younger). After dusk there is adequate street lighting and house numbering for me to be able to find my way around. I'd been finding it hard to find some places in the country lanes after dark - a lot of the residences had names (such as `The Beeches') rather than numbers.
So my concerns about my flow and momentum being disrupted by changing patch have so far proved to be ill-founded. If anything, I feel I can really get started now. I hadn't realised the full extent to which my energy had been leaking away in between calls in sleepy suburbia. I sense that working in Hove may prove to be more rewarding and also more challenging. I suspect the challenge may come from being more fully met, and by so many people. I may have to (continue to) open up to allowing myself to be more fully seen.
Occasionally (often when I'm least expecting it) someone opens a door I've knocked and we just stand there taking each other in. Somehow my preconceptions are taken by surprise and don't have a chance don't kick in. It's like there's just a very pure or full meeting of two human beings (albeit complete strangers) without any masks or barriers. That happened to me tonight on the doorstep of an elderly woman. She had some presence and bearing. In the few seconds before I handed her a booklet she just stood and looked at me and I just stood and looked at her. Quite hard to describe, but quite disarming, charming, wonderful.
