A dear friend of mine brought this topic up, and we had quite a nice chat about it the other day. We don’t have the chance to chat as often as I’d like, but whenever we do it’s as if not a day has gone by. What he brought up is, in many ways, related to exactly this feeling.
I don’t know about you, but my friend and I, as well as many other people we know, live and work in foreign countries. Perhaps it’s not such an uncommon thing nowadays. So perhaps you can relate to what I am about to rant about.
Imagine this. You are young, perhaps a teenager or in your early twenties. You’re in a city filled with people your age, and among them are friends of yours. You meet with your friends every day, you laugh, do stupid things, make memories. You also do what you’re supposed to do, you share common goals and difficulties, so you also share tough times with them. Life is not simple, but it is beautiful.
Your life there is pretty cool, but you need to work. What you want to do is not doable where you are, so you move. You move to a different city, in a different country. But that’s the least of it. People speak a different language, perhaps one that you don’t understand from the beginning. People have a different way of doing, speaking, behaving, living. You are out of place. You need to face a new culture and a new job, alone. Your friends are not there. Sure, they’re just a phone call away, but… they are not there.
So what do you do? You have two options: either you adapt, or you go back where you came from. Depending on your situation, going back might be an acceptable option, but most often than not, it isn’t. If it were, you wouldn’t be in a foreign country in the first place, right? So, you adapt. You learn the language, the local way of being, you meet new people, you stop being the odd one out. Perhaps you even get praised for “fitting in”. But it’s all an act. Your plan is to do that for some time, and then, when things get better, you go back home, where your friends are, where you feel safe and happy and don’t need to force yourself to “fit in”.
The thing is, there are a couple of problems with this.
First of all, waiting for things to “get better” usually doesn’t work out as we expect. So while “pretending” to fit in, we actually do fit in, and we get comfortable, and life is going forward. We keep thinking about going back home, but the situation is just not looking up. So we continue doing our thing, and months go by, and months become years, and we still have no idea when we’re going home.
Second, you’re not the only one that’s left the nest, buddy. Your friends also have plans, they’re doing what you’re doing, and they’re also trying their best to fit in. So, even if someday we manage to go back home, it is not obvious that the old friends will be there. They might be, occasionally, for vacations or the circumstantial extraordinary event (wedding, childbirth, and so on). But, most probably, they will not be there on a permanent basis.
Then there is another factor, a more subtle one. Even if we go back home, we ourselves are not the same anymore. We are foreigners in our countries. Pretending to fit in, it changes you. Not necessarily for worse, mind you. But it does change you, and sometimes accepting this fact can be hard.
Despite all the facts that reality hurls at you mercilessly, we are still allowed to dream, right? So, that’s the dream — The State. The State is when you are back home, you’ve solved practical problems (you have a job, you’re filthy rich or just a drug lord), and you have your old friends there. It feels like before, it brings this sweet aroma of nostalgia and comfort, but now you also have the economic stability to do things, to have a family of your own. This is a kind of modern utopia, I dare say. At least for people like my friend and I.
Well… almost.
It turns out that you may have different outlooks on the same thing. While discussing with my friend, all the memories came flooding back and it was very nice to remember how simple and nice things were back then. But there was a small difference between the way we felt about this. For him, The State is an actual goal, something he is trying to achieve. Me, I have… well, I have let go. It is perhaps sad, but I have.
But here is what it means to me to have let go of The State. I still pretend to fit in wherever I am. I still try to learn languages, manners, ways of doing things that will prevent me from standing out. I still think back to old friends, old experiences, there are memories I hold dear and will keep forever. But I don’t focus on that. I am going to be very blunt and just say it: I realize that for me there is an alternative State that does not depend on friends. I have taken one variable out of the equation. And perhaps that makes all the difference, I cannot say. But it makes for a different outlook.
The consequence is that this simplified State is not tied to a place or to a person. Of course, visiting the old lair and reminiscing about old experiences is always a very nice thing for me. But it is not my utopia. Also, meeting with old friends and remembering all the fun we had, doing our thing and creating new memories is a very exciting thought. But again, it is not my utopia.
So, what is this simplified State, finally? Well, since it doesn’t revolve around other people or a place, what do you think is its center? Yeah, you got it — it’s egocentric. It focuses on one person, you. Well, me, not you. What I mean is the following. Since it is rather difficult and also undesired to influence other people’s whereabouts and lives, I should concentrate on being my best self and going forward as I can. Also, since “for the time being” I don’t want to go back home, I should do my best to make a home here, where I am right now. That, of course, is a very, very simplistic description of the whole thing, but it holds the essence of the idea.
Is it good? Well, who am I to say. I can tell you that it’s dangerous. Oversimplifying things can make it very easy to discard places and people from your life, and it is very scary when you realize that. It can be either good or bad, depending on how you manage it. One good aspect is that it allows you to painlessly keep only the people who want you in their life, and that’s a bond that lasts.
And, who knows? Perhaps one of these “temporary” homes becomes a permanent one.
After all, nothing is more permanent than the temporary.
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