It is January and a new year. A time of transition from the holiday bubble back to our normal life. Life without Christmas cookies and old home movies. Life uncomplicated by childhood nostalgia and the feeling you get when you walk into your parents’ house and realize it’s not your home anymore.
It’s strange what the holidays do to our psyche. We return to our roots only to find them unfamiliar. Did I really used to sleep in this bed? Listen to this music? Did I really once care about the mall?
We like to say home is where our family is, but as we age, our idea of family changes. We move away, get married, go to grad school, have babies, change careers, find new communities and all of a sudden we look in the mirror and see somebody different. Somebody wiser, somebody stronger, somebody who doesn’t care about the mall. Our values evolve along with our bodies, and suddenly family isn’t just who you are related to, but who you can actually relate to. Blood binds us, but so does real kinship.
As part of an alarmingly disconnected generation, I’ve discovered a need in myself and others to feel “at home” in our relationships. We want to feel connection beyond a text message. We want to be heard. We want to be understood. We want to create a family of real, honest, relationships. We do not want to make small talk at an obligatory luncheon or pretend to like yoga. We want to be ourselves.
Motherhood has only affirmed this need for community. The old adage “it takes a village” is not just a catchy idiom. It literally takes a village of humans to raise another human. It is not just Austin and I, but Austin and I with dozens of other hand holders, dish washers, back patters, and phone listeners. As a parent raising a family away from my own family, I am continually surprised at the kindness of others. I have watched former strangers scrub my floors, rock my baby, and love on my toddler. I have cried out on dark days only to receive incredible kindness and compassion and loaves of bread. Like some sort of strange miracle, I have watched a new home be born.
This doesn’t mean our roots aren’t important. A wise friend recently told me that in a world becoming increasingly transient, our deepest desire is for people to fully know who we are. To know not just who we are today, but who we’ve been; our history, our journey, all the varying versions of ourselves.
We want everyone to know who we’ve been so that we can keep on becoming. To weave our past to our present in hopes of a future built on truth, because that’s what home really is. At the end of the day, home is where we are the truest versions of ourselves.
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Wow. That was awesome. I got nostalgic all over again reading this post. :) It’s such an interesting feeling that in the process of discovering ourselves and who we are and who we are becoming, we also have this desire for other people to understand us that way too.
Maybe that’s why high school reunions (and similar things) are so awkward… we have no idea who each other has become since the last time we were together yet we all sort of pretend to understand.
Thanks – this is really ringing true today. “Family isn’t just who you are related to, but who you can actually relate to” – so true.
I also believe that we should “go where you’re celebrated, not where you’re tolerated.” – which often ISN’T ‘blood’ family, but ‘friend’ family.
“Go where you’re celebrated, not where you’re tolerated.” I love this! It makes me think a little bit harder about my relationships…
Good point, Lindsay! Pretending to understand who we all are – some who have changed, some not at all… it’s such a surreal moment where you realize you don’t know these people at all.
This post speaks to my soul. This is exactly how I feel when I face my high school friends. I will always appreciate my roots with them, but we’re not the same anymore. And that’s okay.
This is beautiful, and actually made me cry a little. Ok a lot. Do you mind if I link to this on my end of the week wrap up post this week? With credit to you, of course.
Sharing is caring! (of course)
Had “home” by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros running through my head as I read this. Seems quite fitting. As always, lovin the freewrite!
Perfect song!
Amen, I agree to all of that. :) Andy and I are currently working on finding California “family” and I think it is going to be a lot harder than we thought. To find those people that know you and understand you is a huge thing and not so easy to come by.
This is one of those beautiful posts that I’m going to bookmark and keep coming back to.
It is such a strange thing to grow up and see that the definitions we had for things, places, and people in our lives are not the same anymore. Sometimes it’s exciting. Sometimes it’s downright sad.
Now I’m feeling nostalgic.
Like some sort of strange miracle, I am watching a new home being born.That is exactly true. It is nothing but a blessed miracle.
Towards the end of this post you said, “Our deepest desire is for people to fully know who we are…” There is this great youtube video of a version of the woman at the well passage from the bible. You might like it!! Here’s the link: http://youtu.be/Q49BbfgJbto
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