Finding anchor...

Like many other journeys, this one too began with bookmarking an article as something to be read at a later date. I first  came across Andre Aciman's shadow cities on this blog post. And after what seems like a lifetime on my bookmarks list, I finally managed to read it a month or so back. And it was perfect resonance. It was beautiful and true. In someways, his words captured the thoughts that often skim the surface of my mind when the waters are troubled. 

Aciman said in shadow cities, "like all foreigners who settle here and who always have the sense that their time warp is not perfectly aligned to the city’s, and that they’ve docked, as it were, a few minutes ahead or a few minutes behind Earth time, any change reminds me of how imperfectly I’ve connected to it. It reminds me of the thing I fear most: that my feet are never quite solidly on the ground, but also that the soil under me is equally weak, that the graft didn’t take. In the disappearance of small things, I read the tokens of my own dislocation, of my own transiency. An exile reads change the way he reads time, memory, self, love, fear, beauty: in the key of loss". 

I could understand his words because a lot of me felt like that, a lot of the times. Somehow, the "new" at home was never as scary as even the "old" here is. Somehow the sense of being an outsider still lingered with me despite spending a year in this place. I still feel a little nervous when I'm doing something differently, even though I've familiarized myself with the place and the processes. Even though, I had a house that met my needs, I didn't feel like it was home. Something was missing. I still lived like an outsider, like a passenger who was going to get off soon. I lived like a nomad but out of fear of being uprooted again.

I have often balked at materialists and to those who paid attention to appearances. I have always thought that appearances are deceptive and that one should learn to look beyond them. But now after a year in this new place I have succumbed to the same "vanity" and have anchored myself in material possessions. And i have realized that sometimes appearances are all it takes to start with a new story.

I began my life in San Diego, with a strange sense of skepticism and wariness. I had limited my possessions and had built a life around few things. My house was cosy in its own way but it was also minimalistic - not how i usually live. Its empty walls and barely furnished floors also filled me with a sense of emptiness. I had let things drift in stasis only because i was wary of settling down. Strange as it may sound, I had spent a year here with the constant thought of being ready to pack up and leave. I was reluctant to accept this house as my home and this city as home for a few years. It was almost as if I was waiting for something to come along - something, someone, giving me some roots to anchor. But after a whole year, the wait seems pointless and i have finally decided to take the plunge anyways. I have always been someone who has trouble finding that middle ground between intimacy and aloofness. I give myself whole-heartedly to my people and it seems to be true with places too. Vacating that hostel room after three years, last year, left me in that nomadic state where I walked into a new country with nothing but three suitcases. And today after a whole year, I have finally been able to find some anchor in this new world. It's still nothing like home and I still want to go home in a few years but for now, this feels like another home away from home. I finally, ended up abandoning that sense of caution and anchored myself in some material possessions. I ended up buying some knick-knacks and some furniture. I ended up investing my time, energy, effort and money into making this house into home - a place where i want to come back to. A home where I could cherish old memories and form new. 

It finally feels like a part of me and I feel like a part of it. From living like a refugee, I finally decided to start growing some roots.

I finally feel at home - in a home I have invested myself in.