This got to me. Really quickly, in fact. Reading this felt like having a conversation with an old friend, over a cup of something warm, on a cold winter day. I still find it hard to stay. My husband just knows it somehow and magically figures out a way to put some miles under our feet. He call it the "the bugs," this need to go: "You have the bugs again, don't you," he will say. With the right person, going becomes an adventure, while staying is easier to bear. I belong to so many places at once, by choice as much as much as necessity. And I suspect, I always will. As it is for most immigrants, the hardest question for me to answer is the "Where are you from?" one.
So many of us spend our days in other people’s lands and our roots stretch on and on, pulling us back, like an invisible elastic band. The further we travel, the tighter it grasps, but we cannot go back. In reality, these days, I probably could. But I don't . Ultimately, the roots snap and either transplant us to a new land or we keep moving. They are not infinitely elastic and once broken, they launch us into a free fall.
Action and Reaction.
Velocity of Flight.
Away from Home.
Never meant to make this comment so long, but it really does feel like talking to an old friend. Thank you for that. These days, we choose to belong somewhere for a while. After all, I have always preferred the company of those who do “not belong” here. And I prefer belonging to them more than any place in particular.
This is so beautifully written, and it brought tears to my eyes thinking that we're building a community here of people who feel like you do, who are able to articulate it like you do, and who appreciate the vast depth of this life and its people. Thank you, for this piece, but also just for you in general.
I am so grateful for this community - I really do not have the right words and it also brings me to tears. Grateful tears. Joyful too. My mind has become a queen-less beehive, my thoughts are so jumbled this year. Right here, in this space, I tend to find peace. And beautiful writing too. I am not a musician (though I wish I were), but I feel like you've built us into an orchestra and let us grow. Thank you!
Loved this as my roots have been detached for years. I'm finding that the old loved ones are still where I left them, rooted in the rich farm soil I knew growing up. I have moved around and traveled, and my children as well. We bring the vagabond roots from ancestors who immigrated, and it's in our blood. I feel the urge and love for new places all the time, and yet here I am with loved ones, planning the next escape and settling in to the COVID seclusion.
great food for thought. half of my family line were sort of reckless or carefree artist-farmers who didn't want to be told what to do. the other half were the obedient type, 8-5, farmers, did everything they were supposed to. part of me wants to soar above the earth from adventure to adventure, the other part wants to work the same patch of land 18 hours a day for a lifetime. the two forces seem to balance each other out pretty well. it's the desire sometimes to go that gives value to the decision to stay, it's the knowledge that we could go that gives romance and will to the decision to stay. when we acknowledge how free and crazy we all are, we can also see our loyalty to those we love as sort of its own crazy adventure. it doesn't have to mean it is boring or settling. quite the opposite, if a person who loves adventures and can't stand still for ten seconds wants to stay for a long time, it won't be boring at all, it will be a series of adventures over and over and over again, each day or event needing new life, new air, new eyes to see, and so on. you can have adventures over and over with the same person if you want.
great food for thought. half of my family line were sort of reckless or carefree artist-farmers who didn't want to be told what to do. the other half were the obedient type, 8-5, farmers, did everything they were supposed to. part of me wants to soar above the earth from adventure to adventure, the other part wants to work the same patch of land 18 hours a day for a lifetime. the two forces seem to balance each other out pretty well. it's the desire sometimes to go that gives value to the decision to stay, it's the knowledge that we could go that gives romance and will to the decision to stay. when we acknowledge how free and crazy we all are, we can also see our loyalty to those we love as sort of its own crazy adventure. it doesn't have to mean it is boring or settling. quite the opposite, if a person who loves adventures and can't stand still for ten seconds wants to stay for a long time, it won't be boring at all, it will be a series of adventures over and over and over again, each day or event needing new life, new air, new eyes to see, and so on. you can have adventures over and over with the same person if you want.
This juxtaposition is enormous, and pulling, and strong. I can FEEL your tug between the solidity of the earth you work, and the sky above that leads to different land your hands have never known.
This is my biggest daily struggle; it's so nice to see it put into words. I live somewhere between farm life and road life, and it's impossibly hard to choose which is home.
What I love so much about this space is this...that something I write can mean such different things to different people. That the same words can translate in so many ways. What a beautiful thing this community.
This got to me. Really quickly, in fact. Reading this felt like having a conversation with an old friend, over a cup of something warm, on a cold winter day. I still find it hard to stay. My husband just knows it somehow and magically figures out a way to put some miles under our feet. He call it the "the bugs," this need to go: "You have the bugs again, don't you," he will say. With the right person, going becomes an adventure, while staying is easier to bear. I belong to so many places at once, by choice as much as much as necessity. And I suspect, I always will. As it is for most immigrants, the hardest question for me to answer is the "Where are you from?" one.
So many of us spend our days in other people’s lands and our roots stretch on and on, pulling us back, like an invisible elastic band. The further we travel, the tighter it grasps, but we cannot go back. In reality, these days, I probably could. But I don't . Ultimately, the roots snap and either transplant us to a new land or we keep moving. They are not infinitely elastic and once broken, they launch us into a free fall.
Action and Reaction.
Velocity of Flight.
Away from Home.
Never meant to make this comment so long, but it really does feel like talking to an old friend. Thank you for that. These days, we choose to belong somewhere for a while. After all, I have always preferred the company of those who do “not belong” here. And I prefer belonging to them more than any place in particular.
enjoyed reading this
Thank you!
This is so beautifully written, and it brought tears to my eyes thinking that we're building a community here of people who feel like you do, who are able to articulate it like you do, and who appreciate the vast depth of this life and its people. Thank you, for this piece, but also just for you in general.
I am so grateful for this community - I really do not have the right words and it also brings me to tears. Grateful tears. Joyful too. My mind has become a queen-less beehive, my thoughts are so jumbled this year. Right here, in this space, I tend to find peace. And beautiful writing too. I am not a musician (though I wish I were), but I feel like you've built us into an orchestra and let us grow. Thank you!
I am so grateful for you being part of it! Thank you, so much.
Loved this as my roots have been detached for years. I'm finding that the old loved ones are still where I left them, rooted in the rich farm soil I knew growing up. I have moved around and traveled, and my children as well. We bring the vagabond roots from ancestors who immigrated, and it's in our blood. I feel the urge and love for new places all the time, and yet here I am with loved ones, planning the next escape and settling in to the COVID seclusion.
Love the idea of detached roots, that somehow, as if by magic, they still receive water. What a thing.
great food for thought. half of my family line were sort of reckless or carefree artist-farmers who didn't want to be told what to do. the other half were the obedient type, 8-5, farmers, did everything they were supposed to. part of me wants to soar above the earth from adventure to adventure, the other part wants to work the same patch of land 18 hours a day for a lifetime. the two forces seem to balance each other out pretty well. it's the desire sometimes to go that gives value to the decision to stay, it's the knowledge that we could go that gives romance and will to the decision to stay. when we acknowledge how free and crazy we all are, we can also see our loyalty to those we love as sort of its own crazy adventure. it doesn't have to mean it is boring or settling. quite the opposite, if a person who loves adventures and can't stand still for ten seconds wants to stay for a long time, it won't be boring at all, it will be a series of adventures over and over and over again, each day or event needing new life, new air, new eyes to see, and so on. you can have adventures over and over with the same person if you want.
great food for thought. half of my family line were sort of reckless or carefree artist-farmers who didn't want to be told what to do. the other half were the obedient type, 8-5, farmers, did everything they were supposed to. part of me wants to soar above the earth from adventure to adventure, the other part wants to work the same patch of land 18 hours a day for a lifetime. the two forces seem to balance each other out pretty well. it's the desire sometimes to go that gives value to the decision to stay, it's the knowledge that we could go that gives romance and will to the decision to stay. when we acknowledge how free and crazy we all are, we can also see our loyalty to those we love as sort of its own crazy adventure. it doesn't have to mean it is boring or settling. quite the opposite, if a person who loves adventures and can't stand still for ten seconds wants to stay for a long time, it won't be boring at all, it will be a series of adventures over and over and over again, each day or event needing new life, new air, new eyes to see, and so on. you can have adventures over and over with the same person if you want.
This juxtaposition is enormous, and pulling, and strong. I can FEEL your tug between the solidity of the earth you work, and the sky above that leads to different land your hands have never known.
Oh, Scott, I can so relate to this notion of wanting the quiet of the day and the soaring too, at the same time, all the time.
This is my biggest daily struggle; it's so nice to see it put into words. I live somewhere between farm life and road life, and it's impossibly hard to choose which is home.
What I love so much about this space is this...that something I write can mean such different things to different people. That the same words can translate in so many ways. What a beautiful thing this community.
This one hit home... I love it!!!❤️