Sometimes you feel a distinct restlessness. Like you’re not quite in the right place, as though you’re supposed to be somewhere else, but you’re not sure where.
You feel like you have to get back to something, but don’t know what it is. Or, is it that you’re supposed to be on your way to something else…but can’t see far enough ahead to guess what it could be?
Maybe things just used to feel better. Like your life. Your daily routine. You had things to look forward to, or at least it seemed that way. It might have been nothing more profound that finally organizing the garage or getting all the family photos catalogued. But it was something you could get up for and then move on to something better.
And maybe what you are longing for never really existed…except in your mind now, when you’re antsy in the present and some part of you thinks if you could just get back….
It’s funny. Now that you are older, you want to be fueled by a stronger energy, a determination to do some of the much more important things you’ve always dreamed of, such as visiting Italy or learning how to fly fish or hiking the Oregon Trail or finding your true love if you messed that up when you were young. Yet there are days when just thinking about that is exhausting.
Is there still time? How would you even start? Do you have the energy to take on something big? Where did all the years go? And where is this place you are longing to be?
The Welsh have a word for this. Hiraeth. It is said there is no true translation of this word, but suggested definitions include a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return. A home that never was. The grief or sadness for who or what you have lost.
And trying to make “home” feel like home is something that seems easier when you are young. Because the road ahead is long and full of possibilities. Who know where you will end up? Who you might meet along the way? What wonderful things will happen?
Then we get a few years on us and some of the air comes out…ever so slowly. Not enough to make the balloon come down to the ground, but it’s lower. We instead find comfort in where and what we are. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Because we learn that life is in the details.
One way to look at the word hiraeth is a longing where your spirit lives…your soul…is it a place you can return to, or just a feeling in your mind that overcomes you when you are doing something specific or with a particular person? Maybe it’s a feeling that you never have unless you are reminiscing, so even if you returned to a beloved spot, it still wouldn’t give you the same feeling.
Or maybe it always has lived in your imagination, and that’s the only place you can find it now.
We all need hiraeth. We need to have a place, real or imagined, where when we visit there it’s what we need, what makes us feel at home and welcomes all we have become. For some, it’s a childhood neighborhood where a familiar tire swing still hangs over a brook. For another, it’s the majesty of the ocean and memories of carefree summer days. For me, it’s the mountains, with their gentle breezes and peaceful vistas that whisper and soothe.
But I’m also finding it’s something else…something along the lines of “can’t be defined.” As I age, it’s a tug-of-war with being okay with how things are, versus wanting so much to keep learning, exploring and achieving. To not worry about how many years are ahead but instead consider each step and where I am taking myself right now.
Some days that’s as far as the couch.
Other days, it’s a revved up energy to do as much in one day, week, or month as I possibly can.
Because I’m just not ready to give up what brings me joy. Maybe I can’t hike as far as I used to, but I can still get out there and be awed by a glorious trail. Maybe I let a little more dust settle on some things than I once did because I’d rather use my energy for reading a book or walking my dog.
And for sure, I have to be watchful that I don’t let that lazy part of my mind start to convince me that something is only for younger people.
As my mother used to say, bushwa.
Hiraeth has a sadness to it, but it also hints of a joy that can’t ever be taken away. It’s your joy. Your spirit. Your life. Don’t let anyone else’s idea of what that should be get in your way.
If you’re feeling restless, a yearning, or something else strong, listen to it. You might need to go “home.”
You might already be there.
Or you might have yet to discover where it is.
“Your true home is in the here and now.”
Thich Nhat Hanh
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