Where the heart lies

Subject: Where the heart lies.

One of the difficulties when reading the different scenarios on the outcome of Brexit is the plausibility of all of them, even when they come to different conclusions.
The straight break with the EU and muddling on has the ring of a fresh start.
Revoking 'Article 50' and holding up our hands crying, "no mas", has an equal appeal.
If we continue to try to find a way to break and yet retain much of what we had it will mean years of wrangling and misunderstanding between, not only ourselves and Europe but even more damaging, between the people's inside the UK as we throw brick bats at each other for missed opportunity. 
Already the lines are entrenched and the passions are high and we haven't even left the EU yet or felt any appreciable economic hardship. The historical grass has grown so long around matters such as the Partition of Ireland and the associated simmering unrest, an undergrowth in which lie many land mines just waiting for the unwary to step Diplomacy was always the art of sweeping the unpleasant under the carpet and 'back then' we were the world leaders in diplomacy. 
If we could imagine it as moving into a new house after the collapse of the business, a house half the size of the last but at least it's paid for and there's no mortgage to worry about. Yes you will have to get rid of some furniture and the car sits on the street, not the driveway but does that matter. The clutter of ones past life is replaced with minimalism the art of having space to see and think about the important things in life. 
Maybe it would be a moment to recreate the whole edifice of being British, throwing out the tradition and valuing our society for what it is. No more Polaris submarines, no more propping up evil dictatorships my selling arms to them or lending troops to keep the dictator in power. A lessening of foreign aid all round and harking back to our colonial past. Like a new puppy we could seek out new friends, people we have more in common with and, instead of trying to punch above our weight, be prepared to read our kids the stories of when the thin red line held the difference between civilisation as we knew it and much older civilisations who had questioned our right to be there.
This decontaminated self image, where we prosper as people and are not measured in terms of GNP, much like the Scandinavians, seems a goal to be examined at least.
Perhaps we could be world leaders in climate change, not flying off everywhere because Ryanair make the tickets cheap. I know the climate is grand in Spain but if you don't make it one of your priorities to holiday abroad, at these the conversations in the pub which seem based on one-up-man-ship, we are going to so and so this year, will be more locally based and reflect the beauty of our own island.

Of course I'm dreaming. The tabloids won't leave us alone, they won't let us breath without seeking to whip up discontent. Perhaps if the first thing we did on exiting the EU is to burn down these temples of discontent and with the bricks build youth centres and old people's homes,  a fresh indicator of where our new heart lies.