Last month was my second anniversary of living in Melbourne. The time has flown by. I can honestly say we are very happy here.
What I love the most is this three word phrase that everyone keeps saying to me: You’re alright.
It sounds like one word: Yalright.
Having lived in London for 15 years previously I tend to say Sorry. All the time. If I’m late. If I’m flustered. If I’m in the way. If I exist.
But the response here is so life affirming that it’s like being dipped in cool velvety water.
If I bump into someone. “Sorry,” I murmur.
“You’re alright,” says the large man with the shaved head and anarchy tattoo across his neck.
If I can’t get my change out from my purse fast enough. “Oh so sorry…” I implore.
“You’re alright,” says the impossibly young and chirpy supermarket check out girl.
If I’m made a mistake. “I’m so so sorry….” I blurt.
“Y’alright,” says the seen-it-all lady at the Driver’s License Bureau.
It’s….bliss. And each time some one says it I perk up. I pat myself down and think Yeah, I am alright. I actually am.
It’s good to be reminded.
Which is why I love this country.
I’m sorry I am in your space.
You’re alright.
I love you.
photo by yasa_ (flickr)
Nina Killham 
I am going to consciously think this phrase to myself now. I have been aware of saying sorry too much, even using it when someone else should be sorry, and have been using excuse me more.
Happy Australiaversary, Nina!
Do they need librarians down there? 🙂
I know what you mean, Carol. Why do we do that?
Ha, thanks, Sarah! Yes, they probably do. We have a gorgeous neighborhood library. Spend all my time there.