Saturday 16 October, 2004
Reflections
Phew.
For the first time in months, I can kind of relax. We arrived to Finland late last night and were greeted by Carlos and HunnuH who very kindly had offered to take us home. I say home - but really, I'm currently homeless. We stay at my parent's place in Jollas, and yes, we have a place to go to in Vancouver, but we don't have a real home.
But here we are. Last week was tough, the move was hard work even when we didn't have to do any packing or moving ourselves... still there were about a million little other things that needed doing. But, everything went well. In fact, pretty much everything to do with the move went according to plan.
Still. I feel sad. I've just left behind over seven years of my life, seven years I was happy. I graduated in England, I worked there, I made friends and my home there. I loved the country, I loved the people, the culture... It was home.
Now. I don't know "what now". I believe I'll make my home again in Vancouver, in Canada... but now... My mother describes my state as bardo, the Buddhist state between lifes, after dying but before rebirth. It describes what I'm feeling pretty acurately - I feel I've died a little death, I've left behind a life, and I have a new life waiting for me - it just hasn't started yet.
It'll take I while, I think.
Posted by kolibri at 16 October 14:10, 2004As I'm a little less spiritual I call the state liminal. The in-between-ness. Somebody else lives now in the place that I call home and the place that I occupy is not really home, nor will it ever be. I'm just based at this address at the moment. It is liberating, but also scary. What if I don't find new people here? What if I just fall into the same patterns?
# 2 - kolibri (on October 17, 2004 06:09 PM):
I don't think you should feel liminal, although I understand why you might. After all - you might not have a home, but you have a stable base of operations. You have (at least some of) your stuff, you have a job.
People - now people are different. I hope you find your place there, I hope you find your people... I think what you've done is very brave, I think it's either going to be the best thing you've ever done - but also possibly the worst. After all, you're doing it alone, at least how badly I might do, I'll always have Dragon.
I'm sorry, I'm starting to sound very depressing and it wasn't my intention. I'm just trying to say: I believe you'll do ok. Your feeling of liminal-ness will pass, and you'll settle in. You'll meet your people, you'll have a fantastic time and maybe you'll never want to leave. I hope I'll get there too.
# 3 - Yoe (on October 18, 2004 06:31 AM):
Oh yes. I understand, in know precicely how you feel. Old life, everything that made it a day-to-day life, is just gone and will never come back; even if you came back to the old place and old work and old friends, you have changed.
I just keep on hoping the change is for better.
But, for the moment, you do not have a life, you just - float. Like in a vast transit hall between intercontinental flights.
# 4 - kolibri (on October 18, 2004 11:37 AM):
Thank you! It's difficult to explain this to people who haven't experienced it.
I get lot of comments along the lines of "but it will be ok" and "think of this as a holiday" - but that's all besides the point. It's not the future I'm worried about, not really... it's the state between lifes.
Very bad day today. Except for several hours of phone calls to Finland, to my mom and Chu. Chu was right, once again. I had thought that I should be out of bardo by now, but she quite rightly pointed...
Read more on Bad day as tracked on November 19, 2004 05:32 PM
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