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aryanhwyAwhile back, Nessa asked on FB: "What elements in your life are the most important for you in terms of your identity? Do you define yourself by your family, your career, your interests, or by something else?"
It took me a few days before I could formulate my answer:
And it's something that I've been meaning to expand on here.
A month or two ago, in the middle of a drizzly, grey, northern British summer-July, I was suddenly struck with a bout of horrible, horrible homesickness, for Heidelberg. I remembered the sunshine and the sandpit behind our house, where we spend many happy weekend hours, I remembered watching her play in the fountains, and our bike rides home along the river. I remembered walking down Hauptstrasse to the grocery store with Gwen, stopping to say hello to Mr. Bunsen, to climb the statues under the cherry trees, and I had a clear, still moment of thought "I will never do this again". Gwen and I will never walk down Hauptstrasse again. Oh, someday we will go back there, and we will put our feets on that street again, but it won't be us, we will be older, different, and it will not be the same place, because it won't be the place where we live. We'll be the visitors there, instead of the people who are there by right, who live there, threading their way through the hoards of tourists.
One thing I like about walking everywhere is that it gives me unbroken time to surround myself with where I live, and this directly contributes to the connection between where I am and who I am, because all I am able to do while walking is think, and thinking in a certain geographical context necessarily influences what I think about it. Walking to and from the library, seeing the cathedral, seeing students, smelling that fresh breath of fall, I think of who I am here and it is built around academia, and being a part of an academic context that I couldn't get in Heidelberg. Thus, who am I now is intimately connected to where I am now, because I could not be an-academic-in-Durham without being in-Durham.
We're getting very close to the one-year anniversary of moving here, and so these thoughts are swirling to the forefront again. I try not to think too much about Heidelberg; I will cry if I do. We were very happy there, and could have continued to be very happy there. This is not to say we are not happy here, but the "we" is not the same "we". It is a different we, with a different life, and a different future. [I still have a post that has been mulling in my head since December 2013, on the building of Gwen's future, and how geography makes such a difference.] Thinking of Heidelberg makes me sad because that "me" is gone, and even if I return to that where, it will never be my "here" again, so I can never get that "me" back.
I'm not sure why I'm writing this today. Nothing particular happened to trigger it, the homesickness has abated and I am excited about the upcoming anniversary and with it the start of another academic year (hopefully better than the one past!). I look forward to getting to play the part of the me who lives here again...but I still sometimes wish I could've met the me who never left Heidelberg.
It took me a few days before I could formulate my answer:
I've been ruminating over this since you posted. I've found that the answer is something I wouldn't have thought of at all before about 6 months ago, and find it a bit strange to be so strongly connected to my identity but, it's where I live.
When I look back over my life, the moments which have caused the biggest shifts in my identity haven't been the usual suspects...graduating college, getting married, defending my Ph.D., having a child...but rather, moving, from the US to Amsterdam, from Amsterdam to Tilburg, from Tilburg to Heidelberg, from Heidelberg to Durham. I was really happy in Heidelberg, I'd really made it my home, and I found the first month or two in Durham I felt like I didn't really know who I was anymore. And I realized rather suddenly a few weeks ago that I've reconstructed my identity as a Durhamite, and that's part of why I've felt a lot more comfortable and relaxed: But I also recognize this, and recognize how much comfort I derive from walking the same path to my office, day in and day out (the other day Gwen stayed home with Joel because she was ill, and walking out to my office that morning I very nearly walked to nursery before I realized I didn't need to). Which means I'm already working at setting myself up for a new house, a new walk, a new route, a new identity after we move to our new house. I think it'll be easier, because the city and surroundings won't have changed, and because I know it will be happening, but still, I expect that this will almost mark another change in identity in my life.
And it's something that I've been meaning to expand on here.
A month or two ago, in the middle of a drizzly, grey, northern British summer-July, I was suddenly struck with a bout of horrible, horrible homesickness, for Heidelberg. I remembered the sunshine and the sandpit behind our house, where we spend many happy weekend hours, I remembered watching her play in the fountains, and our bike rides home along the river. I remembered walking down Hauptstrasse to the grocery store with Gwen, stopping to say hello to Mr. Bunsen, to climb the statues under the cherry trees, and I had a clear, still moment of thought "I will never do this again". Gwen and I will never walk down Hauptstrasse again. Oh, someday we will go back there, and we will put our feets on that street again, but it won't be us, we will be older, different, and it will not be the same place, because it won't be the place where we live. We'll be the visitors there, instead of the people who are there by right, who live there, threading their way through the hoards of tourists.
One thing I like about walking everywhere is that it gives me unbroken time to surround myself with where I live, and this directly contributes to the connection between where I am and who I am, because all I am able to do while walking is think, and thinking in a certain geographical context necessarily influences what I think about it. Walking to and from the library, seeing the cathedral, seeing students, smelling that fresh breath of fall, I think of who I am here and it is built around academia, and being a part of an academic context that I couldn't get in Heidelberg. Thus, who am I now is intimately connected to where I am now, because I could not be an-academic-in-Durham without being in-Durham.
We're getting very close to the one-year anniversary of moving here, and so these thoughts are swirling to the forefront again. I try not to think too much about Heidelberg; I will cry if I do. We were very happy there, and could have continued to be very happy there. This is not to say we are not happy here, but the "we" is not the same "we". It is a different we, with a different life, and a different future. [I still have a post that has been mulling in my head since December 2013, on the building of Gwen's future, and how geography makes such a difference.] Thinking of Heidelberg makes me sad because that "me" is gone, and even if I return to that where, it will never be my "here" again, so I can never get that "me" back.
I'm not sure why I'm writing this today. Nothing particular happened to trigger it, the homesickness has abated and I am excited about the upcoming anniversary and with it the start of another academic year (hopefully better than the one past!). I look forward to getting to play the part of the me who lives here again...but I still sometimes wish I could've met the me who never left Heidelberg.
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no subject
Date: 2015-09-14 06:17 pm (UTC)Interesting post, thank you.
no subject
Date: 2015-09-14 08:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-09-14 06:51 pm (UTC)Also, walking down the centre of Amsterdam with toddler Suzy is special too. As is calling a canal house my home. (Even though I still love my Jordaan doll-house)
Valery
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Date: 2015-09-14 08:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-09-15 01:38 pm (UTC)I dread having chemo.
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Date: 2015-09-15 03:52 pm (UTC)And speaking of hair, Gwen has been asking me to braid hers every morning lately. And I can! It's just barely long enough and thick enough finally.
[I dread you having chemo too, for entirely different reasons.]
no subject
Date: 2015-09-15 03:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-09-15 03:53 pm (UTC)