Sydney and Melbourne are so fabulous that it's hard to remember, when you return to the Piccadilly Line on a dark Monday afternoon, why you would ever choose to live in London.
It's a seductive illusion to imagine that moving to somewhere warmer, cleaner, safer and with more space will bring greater happiness. (In fact as I type I'm aware that there's part of me trying to remind myself that that's indeed the case...)
But it's to do with values. Would being warmer, cleaner, safer and with a higher quality of life actually make me happier? The answer for me right now is no. Unless a move would bring me greater freedom at work, access to interesting work and people, more meaning, more challenges and more opportunities then it would not work.
The place that brings all of these things at the moment is London.
It's an illusion that I can avoid the unpleasant bits that come with living my values. So here I shall stay, in the dark and gloom of a November afternoon, knowing that my valued direction never promised to be easy.