Remigration is hard work, dealing with an intense reversed culture shock, homesickness to where I had lived prior to the return (in my case Oklahoma). Remigration is not as easy as one may think. You don't "just go home." I've recently celebrated my one year anniversary of living in the Netherlands, my home country. Amsterdam wasn't waiting with open arms for my return. A job wasn't "lined up," but it's the "adventure of not knowing" that I chose. But, for a long time I was making others responsible for my lack of happiness... until I realized that I'm fully responsible for my own happiness and that I was capable of "letting go."
When going through the interesting happenings of this past year (losing my dearest uncle, ending my relationship, starting a new one, two short separations of my parents, falling down the stairs and suffering a concussion), I wondered: did I make the right decision?
(Don't worry, it gets better).
And yes, the answer is yes. Granted, I'm homesick regularly... while my friendships here help soothe the aching heart for my Okla-homies. Sometimes people close to me (read: my mom) tried to find solutions to help and said, "well, then if you feel this way, we'll make it happen so you can go back." It's meant with a lot of love, but it's not a solution. Going back doesn't mean everything will be alright again, because the unrest lied in my heart, not in the location. Moving to a new place, whether it's within the same nation or across the world takes work, especially you are being confronted with yourself. There's nothing else to hold on to, no things, no people. Feelings of being "lost" may emerge... so that's where the work lies: healing emotionally (aside from the mundane logistics of finding housing & work).
Thoughts on emigration: The first stage is filled with excitement and adrenaline, a new culture, new foods, new behaviorisms... you're too busy anyway trying to find a place to live. As I recall from having moved to Oklahoma, the first year was exploratory... not really feeling right at home.
But graduate school kept me busy enough. The second year I felt that the routes I rode, the doors I opened, the halls I walked, the chairs I sat on, the places where I had lunch... were becoming a part of me. It was nice. I was contributing to a new society. During the third year I finally felt my energy was syncing with that of Norman's (the city where I lived).
And then I got a full-time job... so even though I only looked to living there for three years, I ended up staying for five. In those two years after graduation I felt so connected to the city and state. Also because after graduate school I had the opportunity to build new connections, venture out into the arts community of the Oklahoma City metro. And I felt American, Oklahoman almost. I heard myself speak of "our President," while I was of course still an immigrant. And then the conflict also occurred of, "hey I'm paying taxes, I'm contributing to this society, everyone thinks I'm American... but I still have to file paperwork each year,
I can't do all the work I want to do... I'm an alien." (other immigrants will know the "crinching" feeling you have when reading the word "alien" in this context). I felt estranged from the America I also loved. This is part of the reason why I wanted to return "home," to connect with my roots again and not look over my shoulder all the time feeling I'd be doing something "wrong." I was trying to be the perfect American citizen, which in many ways I was. And I was living the American Dream.
And then you come "home," you remigrate. You sit in your new apartment with no people to call to go for coffee with or knock on the door to say hey. So, I did it all over again. I knocked on all my neighbors' doors to invite them for tea. I went to meditation sessions and connected with SGI members. I joined a few dance projects and slowly but surely I saw my friendships grow and my sense of belonging increase.
Now, when I bike through the city I don't feel yet that I'm a part of Amsterdam, nor that Amsterdam is part of me. But I'm a bit more home, knowing that no matter where I am I can build a life for myself and be happy and connect with other (transient) beings. I find those chairs to sit on again, the halls to walk, the door to lock, the routes I ride
Since living in the Netherlands, I've had to do some deep soul searching. I'm glad I got to take the 7 months in between the move from Oklahoma and settling in Amsterdam to embark on my mission of Changing Lives Through Dance in Brazil & India. I found myself again.
My family has always been my rock, and even though they may not understand all my life decisions, they are there for me and support my every decision. It is nice to take a 30 min train ride to go see my sister and my 4 year old niece and 2 year old nephew. Just to call my other sister in the same time zone (and not with a 7hr time difference) and hug her little ladies (she's got three!). To be there for birthdays. For Sinterklaas. Be there for my parents while they were struggling in their marriage. Just to be there again. Several times, especially in my first year away, I had felt that I had become some sort of ghost, or that they had become ghosts. You can't touch them, feel them, smell them, but you can dream of them, speak to them on the phone... Now we can hug, smile, cry, and rejoice.
I've been here for a year and my new relationship is blossoming and growing like spring time. My friendships are developing and since January of this year I feel content in my heart. This inner peace I had yearned for has arrived. Stability in my spirit. Less money, less security... but what have I gained: time for myself, growing relationships, and most of all: peace in my heart. So no, I don't regret moving away from Oklahoma, and I don't regret moving to Amsterdam. And no, it hasn't been easy... But, I know that everything is transient and that my life can change again today. Nothing is permanent, and I find joy and peace in that thought.
The permanence of love is in my heart so transience can be my friend
