Yesterday’s blog was a graphic metaphor about the terrible day on Friday.
So here’s the story. My wife and I moved from our shared home of six years to a new place this past Saturday. Friday morning we had no idea we’d be moving, by Saturday we were loading suitcases in the car for new quarters, a 10 minute drive away. The circumstances were sudden and less than desirable, but irrelevant to this blog. What is relevant are the personal feelings that accompany an identity shift.
Identity shift and residence?
I’m sure that many of you would agree that where one lives is tied in with one’s identity. Some may not have as strong a link to where one lives as others, but I venture to say that everyone experiences some kind of personal connection to place.
When a person moves, his or her the point of view changes – literally. For example, I was used to getting up in the morning, getting my coffee, going on the back porch (Back Yard Revisited, Back Yard Take 2) with a good book and looking at the fig tree and the humming birds.
My identity also depends on what I do. After this sudden move, all my previous routines have been disrupted. Now, staying temporarily with other family, I have no routine. Nothing is routine yet, nor will it be for a while, most likely.
A final thought:
Although it is wonderful to be rid of the undesirable trappings of an unfortunate living situation, it will take a while for my comfort index to rise. And since the term of our new situation is indeterminate, the uncertainty index is high. We must face the prospect of moving again and, along with this, a drop in comfort level once again.
Here is a watercolor sketch of our present backyard view: