Longing for a Place to Call Home

It’s now almost a week now since I’ve been living in my new house. Yes, it’s still a ‘house’ to me for now. There have been different emotions that have emerged as if from a deep part of who I am. Even if I’m in a community setting, there’s still a sense of isolation and alienation. I am discovering that settling in isn’t an easy thing. I have doubts at times on whether I was prepared for this radical change. I find myself in a reality that I have to accept. A reality that I wish to deny but is one that I face every waking moment.

I find value in this opportunity as it made me realize that I need my personal space, silence and time to reflect and meditate. I like to socialize, mind you, but I am aware that I like to be on my own. Perhaps this reflects badly on me but I prefer to lead a quiet life and I certainly need some time alone. This, I feel, what still lacks in my new life. I may not be cut out for a community setting. This isn’t anyone’s failure, I know, and I will try to stay here and be open to this experience. I know that many have worked hard and still working to make this transition I success. I owe it to them to, at least, do my best.

However, today, I feel like a refugee, a man without a home. A restless soul seeking peace. The peace of a place to call home. I may need to adapt to my new life but there’s always that lingering sadness and a deep sense of abandonment. I trust that this feeling will one day cease as it is, like anything else in the cosmos, impermanent. I may have to be more willing to reach out to the others who are sharing this experience together with me. But, I admit, that I long for the moments when I have the time to meditate - just listening, just witness life that is unfolding in my presence.

I can’t expect anyone to relate to my need for a time to contemplate. I Know that in my active life, I am expected to be on the go and to react (rather than act). I need a time to reflect about my life - how I am here and where I wish to be. I can forget the past but also   acknowledge the present that I’m living. For every day I am living, I am shaping the future. I must accept that it’s up to me whether to go on living this new life. Inasmuch as there are many things that I can’t control or choose in my life, ultimately, I remain responsible for my own future. A future, I hope, will lead me to further growth and happiness.,  

Having said that, I still struggle with the feeling that I don’t belong here. A feeling that there’s an emptiness that rules my days. An uncertain future, hopes and dreams that have been crushed. A profound longing for a home that I never had and which, it seems,, I will never have. Like the ancient Hebrews during their exile in Babylon, I find myself thinking of the ‘promised land’.

PSALM 137

1  By the rivers of Babylon,

         there we sat down, yea, we wept,

when we remembered Zion.

2  We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof.

3  For there they that carried us away captive required of us a song;

         and they that wasted us required of us mirth, saying,

Sing us one of the songs of Zion.

4  How shall we sing the LORD's song in a strange land?

Yet, in my case, this promised land of Zion is where I can truly express who I am. A place where I can find a silent place to manifest my full being. I still feel that I am in a strange  land. I feel I don’t yet belong here. This may be a failing on my part. And, I will try to do my best to make it work. The only thing I can truly say is that time will tell. Experience will guide me in how to proceed.

A Witness to the Dark

I’ve been going through a rough time lately as I have to face some health issues again. I’m experiencing this ringing in the ears again. And, now, I’m also having occasional blackouts. There were times when I really feel scared and helpless. I don’t claim that my experience is unique or that my pain is excruciating. But, whenever I am disoriented either by my tinnitus or my temporary blindness, I feel as if I’m alone and helpless. There is, I admit, a degree of physical pain in my experience. But, that’s not the primary cause of my suffering.

Indeed, even if I write this wondering if I’ll have an attack as I try to describe my feelings, I also know that no matter how well I describe my experience, it will remain just words. Yes, words that express a thought, a feeling and a state of mind. But, nevertheless, these words I type are simply a trace… an image… an imitation of an experience. Our memories are so short and fragile. I will probably forget myself what the actual experiences I’m going through were like. I don’t know if all this will ever end in my life. I do feel abandoned when I am vulnerable, when it’s like being in a state of living and non-living.

No light without dark

But, as I read the haiku “In the Dark” I wrote last time, I realise how true it was. In spite of the darkness I feel around me at those times, I know that there’s no darkness without light. Would you know what darkness was if you never experienced it? What you understand what light is if you never experienced darkness.

There’s no hope without despair

The same can be said of the moments of despair that are haunting me. I know that these moments will, one day, end. Even if life may be leading you nowhere, and you are plagued by a sense of hopelessness, there is still some hope. There’s no hope without despair. I know that these hard times I struggle with are the source of much doubt and resignation. But, as I am reminded of the buddhist idea of impermanence, I am reassured by the fact that there will be one day when this will end. As light cannot exist without darkness, so there can be no hope if there is no despair. If our life was devoid of any suffering, then there would be no reason to hope in a better tomorrow. It wouldn’t really a human existence at all.

No life without death

Finally, I do wonder whether I will survive to see a tomorrow. I have wondered about death since I was young. I may sound strange but I was always aware of my own mortality but I knew it had to happen one day. As death had taken one of my brothers away, it could take me at any point. Yes, I was scared but if this was a state similar to sleep, I wouldn’t mind that much. For who are we really in a dreamless night? And while our death may be a sad and tragic event for those who love us and, as we live, we probably dread the prospect of dying, it’s inevitable. But, like light and darkness, hope and despair, there can be no life without death.

Concluding Reflection

This is the cycle of existence. The nature of life. Things can only exist in relation to other things. There is nothing intrinsically bad about darkness, despair and death. They’re part of our experience. We suffer because we cling to the what makes us comfortable and what makes us feel safe. However, my experiences of life has taught me that I don’t have to worry too much about tomorrow. It’s good to plan ahead and live for a purpose. Yet, ultimately, we have to accept that we should appreciate moments of darkness as much as those of light, times we feel desperate as much as we hope for a better future and appreciate our life as we are aware of the impermanence of life and the inevitability of death.

An End?

With this I end this reflection. Still, as I end this post. But is it really an end? Isn’t darkness an opportunity to search for the light? Isn’t darkness an opportunity to rest and sleep? Isn’t despair a chance to discover yourself? Isn’ despair an invitation to hope? 

And isn’t the awareness of  of death, a reason to celebrate this life? To appreciate life with all that it brings? Isn’t an awareness of death a call to appreciate the today, to rejoice in the now? And, isn’t death not just a loss but also a hope for the renewal of life. Isn’t death giving a new life to start?

An end is also a beginning. Every beginning will one day end.

Life  is not good or bad. 

Life is simply what it is.