Homesickness. Never gave the concept much thought, up until I’d had my hands in that particular cookie jar.
I’ve lived in South Dakota (yes, really), Denver (twice), Portland, Hawaii (twice), Southern California, The SF Bay Area, and an ’84 Ford Bronco for six months while I drove the western states. I’ve spent months in Europe and SouthEast Asia. All interspersed with months and years heading back to the good old AK for rest, rejuvination or just not knowing where else to turn.
I love me some Alaska, but as my friend Elaine says: there is something about that place that both drives me crazy, and simply feels like home at the same time. Oh yeah, TOTALLY…
Here in Santuario, Colombia, a picturesque little town smack-dab in the coffee region of the Andes Mountains, I have missed that sense of home for the first time. As Gollum said, “it burnssssss!”
How is that? After so many years trying to cut the strings, the ties that I felt bind, now I’m clinging to them. I’m using them to pull myself back to homeland, home base, and feel again at home. I have shocked myself; must find jaw and pick it up off the floor.
Yes, Alaska, I moose you, I moose you very much. But why now? Why does the snow, and the dark sound so inviting? Why do old friendships (some rickety) and haunts sound like the most stable thing I know? How can I be still in love with culturally-challenged Anchorage? My God, I’ve logged way too many hours on Facebook!
Well, because, I’m lonely down here. There’s one person I can actually have a conversation with, and four months later, I’m still stared at when I walk down the street. That makes me feel very much an outsider. With such a contrast of scenery, culture, life – hey, no place like home.
Traveling is different than moving. Ok, AH-hah, I see that now.
The intention to set new roots I’ve held and manifested before. Kept re-intending, no place felt right. I’ve tried aplenty to make Alaska work for me (and gratefully, people totally let me do it). Yet, no… not quite right for full-time living. I’ll always love you, AK, but I don’t think living there will ever be the perfect fit. But you know, how am I supposed to live without you?
So, I have a plane ticket. I leave next Tuesday for at least a month, maybe two, in AK. Thai food. Bear Tooth Nachos. Eddy. Sis. Dad. Snow. Bro with a new snow machine. Those moonlit walks I love, the snow glowing.
But going back is just that, isn’t it? Going back. And you can’t step in the same river without really messing up your shoes that you bought in Medellin. But I got Sorel’s in the shed out back, so it’s cool.
I’m different, Anchorage is different. I saw a post the other day on Craigslist, (yes,click here): a young clothing designer looking for models for a fashion show unlike anything ever seen in Anchorage. Hmm… that’s what I said. Maybe someone said it before me…
This amazing pic is by Lloyd L. Chambers, his site here.
Luther Burbank was a pioneer of agricultural science. His life was devoted to plant-life. He wrote a cool little book, called ‘Training the Human Plant.’ You can download it free, here.
He discusses how, as children, our sensitivities are the most magnificent of any other life form. His thoughts on education are kissed with brilliance. His articulate dialogue about respecting each life form’s (child and plant alike) individuality and need for proper environment make sense. Dude wrote his book in the very early 1900′s, btw.
So I’ve been transplanted. Rather, I transplanted myself.
… and it isn’t quite what I thought it would be. Plants show quickly the shock to their system when you change things drastically. Lots of love is needed for new roots to take effect.
So, Ok, I get it now. I get a lot more, now, after writing this post…
It’s not just what came before. Its the change, the new-ness, what’s known and not known in the now. This setting is a different mirror than the one I’m used to using. The reflection alights gratitude where there wasn’t much before, limitations I didn’t want to accept, and the need for patience on the bright possibilities for the future. Ah hah, bitches!
That was so moving …hope you get your hit of home in Alaska. Someone once said to me after much traveling and trying to find my place ” well, y’know that wherever you go, there you are. ” I didn’t understand it for a long time. hugs
“Traveling isn’t moving”. Love that – it is so true!! Unfortunately for me, I’ve always lived elsewhere in my head and heart; always wanting to be somewhere else and not appreciating where I am until I’m leaving. Of course, now that I’m thick in the meaty part of life, I do feel at home and established. Often it’s a weird feeling and I wonder if I’m really supposed to be spending so much time in one spot, at the same job, while days/months/years fly by too quickly to see.
Hang in there, though. I think about you often, and am envious of this amazing thing you and Hector are doing! I wish I could come down there and see you, but it seems an entire world away and I’ve been advised (by our neighbor whose wife is Colombian) that it might not be the safest corner of the globe… I do live vicariously through this blog though, and can picture the sights and sounds of your place, with the canciones and people dancing in the streets.
Have a wonderful time in the AK. Miss it there too, but I agree that I couldn’t be a permanent resident. I guess the message to all of this is to stay open to whatever comes. You’ve always been good at that…the rest of us got caught up in the trappings of suburban American life, and have to always wonder “what if…”
Love you! Keep writing and painting and drawing. Can’t wait for the next installment!!
Sarah