Morning by morning, new mercies I see.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Home

Home. Where is home? Some say that it is where the heart is. I suppose this is true, in that you feel at home when surrounded by people who you love and who love you back. A better question might be, where do I belong? This is a much more complicated question for me to answer. I am sure the easy answer is home. I belong at home, we all belong at home. However, where do I think home is? Is home a house? Is home a country? Is home a state of mind?

Take my house. It is not my dream house but it holds my dreams in it, if that makes sense. My children are growing up here. My view keeps me dreaming of the next adventure. It is not too big and not too small but, is a house a home? Do I belong here, in this apartment, in this small village in Switzerland.

Take my country. I am a first generation Canadian. My parents chose to move to Canada for adventure and opportunity and decided to stay for the standard of living (and other political reasons that I will not go into at this time). So, am I Canadian? Am I Scottish? Am I a Scottish-Canadian? And just what is that exactly? I suppose since there is no real visual clue that I am of a different cultural background, it seems a point not worth bringing up. If I was able to be categorized by my visual appearance (pasty white skin aside:-) I think perhaps I would feel more comfortable with a hyphenated description of myself. Also, when coming from a country like Canada, there are so many people with so many different cultural backgrounds, I wonder if we need to label ourselves at all. Isn't it enough to just BE Canadian? Many people would kill to be born and brought up where I was. Canada is an amazing country yet I spent my whole life wishing that I lived somewhere else. Like so many people whose parents immigrated, the home country was stuff of legend, romantic songs and many a melancholy evening (just add a wee dram of whiskey and watch the eyes glaze over and wait for the poetry to begin). I grew up with a very romantic (probably inaccurate) image and yet it remains with me to this day. I wonder if I belong there. I wonder if I will live there one day and it will feel like going home.

Take my state of mind, if you dare;-) Is home wherever I want it to be? Can I belong where I choose to? Is it all in my mind, this FEELING of belonging...this longing?

My last thought for this post is of my own children. Will they be in this same position years from now? Will they feel at home here in Switzerland? Will they yearn for Canada as I do (rightly or wrongly) for Scotland? Will they truly be global nomads, citizens of the world or will they be ships without anchors?

1 comment:

  1. My parents moved from the U.S. to Switzerland when I was 2. I loved growing up in CH (for 15 years) and was devastated when they moved back to the U.S. after my first year of university (in the U.S.!). Then I lived 16 years in the U.S., and finally got to move back to Europe with my husband and two kids...and was thrilled, three countries later, to be able to land in CH again...so you just never know how it will all work out!

    ReplyDelete