Been trying to think of a couple of things to record, but it's taking too long to organise what it was I wanted to write, so better to just throw them down.
Thinking a lot about what makes a home. It may be trite to say so, but it has an awful lot to do with familiarity. The routines, the sights, the interactions that repeat themselves become the daily "sphere of reference" that I live in (gawd, reading this back it sounds very A'level). It becomes a home because I am familiar with it. Far from breeding contempt, it becomes a comfortable, reassuring place, somewhere perhaps that I can predict what is expected of me. I don't have to make an effort to think about how to interact with the people in it. They know me and I know them. I don't have to think about where to get things, if I need a service or product, the chances are I know where to get them, or at least know where to start looking for them. Things are arranged in the sphere that I enjoy. My journey to work contains things that I regularly like to do, like listen to the radio, read my magazine, listen to a book.
Whilst things may change, but because I'm familiar with the things in the sphere, I notice those changes and appreciate them. The scenery that I pass, either out with the family or just walking to the shops, changes subtly over time. I notice those changes because I'm familiar with the scenery.
How long then, until a new place becomes familiar, becomes a home? Linked with these thoughts are others about what I may miss. When the time comes to decide whether to return to England, what do I think now will be the "pulls" back home? It won't necessarily be those things that I'm most familiar with. I imagine it will be the opportunity to do things that I'll miss. For example, go walking in the Lake District or Scotland. Go for a weekend to Brighton. Ride my bike around forestry commission land.
Then there are the things from my past, walking around the areas of Kent that I grew up in. Finally there is family and friends. The ability to call them up and visit, to holiday with them, and most importantly to share happy and sad occasions with them.
Last weekend was a significant moment (which is what this blog is supposed to be about after all). We paid a visit to some friends in Norfolk to see their new born and to "say goodbye". We had a lovely weekend as I we set off back down the motorway, it finally dawned on me that the opportunity to see them like this would be, from now, out of the question. Next weekend we have a similar occasion lined up with my family. The prospect of this is now far more daunting. I think the twin "pulls" of both the familiar and the family may be the strongest when it comes to thinking about returning.
Of course who can say now, but it may be interesting to have the above to refer to when the time comes, just as something to compare myself against.
Thinking a lot about what makes a home. It may be trite to say so, but it has an awful lot to do with familiarity. The routines, the sights, the interactions that repeat themselves become the daily "sphere of reference" that I live in (gawd, reading this back it sounds very A'level). It becomes a home because I am familiar with it. Far from breeding contempt, it becomes a comfortable, reassuring place, somewhere perhaps that I can predict what is expected of me. I don't have to make an effort to think about how to interact with the people in it. They know me and I know them. I don't have to think about where to get things, if I need a service or product, the chances are I know where to get them, or at least know where to start looking for them. Things are arranged in the sphere that I enjoy. My journey to work contains things that I regularly like to do, like listen to the radio, read my magazine, listen to a book.
Whilst things may change, but because I'm familiar with the things in the sphere, I notice those changes and appreciate them. The scenery that I pass, either out with the family or just walking to the shops, changes subtly over time. I notice those changes because I'm familiar with the scenery.
How long then, until a new place becomes familiar, becomes a home? Linked with these thoughts are others about what I may miss. When the time comes to decide whether to return to England, what do I think now will be the "pulls" back home? It won't necessarily be those things that I'm most familiar with. I imagine it will be the opportunity to do things that I'll miss. For example, go walking in the Lake District or Scotland. Go for a weekend to Brighton. Ride my bike around forestry commission land.
Then there are the things from my past, walking around the areas of Kent that I grew up in. Finally there is family and friends. The ability to call them up and visit, to holiday with them, and most importantly to share happy and sad occasions with them.
Last weekend was a significant moment (which is what this blog is supposed to be about after all). We paid a visit to some friends in Norfolk to see their new born and to "say goodbye". We had a lovely weekend as I we set off back down the motorway, it finally dawned on me that the opportunity to see them like this would be, from now, out of the question. Next weekend we have a similar occasion lined up with my family. The prospect of this is now far more daunting. I think the twin "pulls" of both the familiar and the family may be the strongest when it comes to thinking about returning.
Of course who can say now, but it may be interesting to have the above to refer to when the time comes, just as something to compare myself against.
1 comment:
Mike, hope that the journey goes well and that you and the family settle in to the new place easily. Was great to see you the other week. Who knows, maybe I will see you in Oz. Bye for now. S
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