Monday, September 3, 2012

Reflections on the past, present and future


Hello friends.

As you probably realize, I haven’t been so good about updating this blog on a regular basis, and I think the reason for that is because for three years or so, I have used this space as a way to record just about every event, travel or happening in my life.  This can get overwhelming and it sometimes feels like a bit of a chore.  I’ve decided that I don’t need to feel so much pressure to record everything, and it’s ok if I don’t update this blog after every interesting moment.  Instead, I’m going to write whenever possible, and I’ll include any exciting happenings, but I don’t want this to read like a “what I did on my summer vacation” essay.  Because this isn’t a vacation; I am living in strange places, but my life is boring and routine just like anyone else’s.  I’ve been extremely fortunate to travel quite a bit in the past year or so, but that isn’t all I do.  I just don’t write about the boring bits.  So instead, I’m going to write what I’m thinking or feeling, usually in the context of what has been going on in my life. 

So, let's start there.  Currently, I'm sitting in Kassel, Germany after having spent the day with the Svensons.  I realize this sounds as if an old blog post has been pasted into a new post, but I promise it's not.  I'm in Europe for a business/pleasure visit and I really am thrilled to be here.  I began in Berlin, and then took the train to Kassel this past Friday.  

I was in Berlin for a conference to wrap up the research project I had been working on for the past two years in Kassel, and this alone has made me sentimental.  In these years of working on a European research project, I have been very lucky to meet colleagues from all parts of the world, visit many conferences and workshops in exciting cities, and make very meaningful friendships.  I also learned a fair bit about research, but this is not what makes me sentimental.  For the last time, my project colleagues and I sat in a room together to discuss higher education research in Europe.  It’s not the last time for many of them, but I have removed myself from this arena, and the withdrawal is difficult.  When I reflect on my professional network, I see that it is almost entirely located in Europe, while I am not.  This is not a sustainable situation.  As I begin to create a network in South America, as I hope I will, my European network will wane.  I will stay in touch with a select few of course, but I will not be a part of European higher education research.  Considering I’m not sure if I have the passion for research anyway, this may not be a bad thing, but I am still a bit sad that I’m not part of a European anything anymore. 

Don’t misunderstand, I love Chile, and being in Santiago is exciting and new and I enjoy it immensely.  But it’s still new, and I haven’t created a life just yet.  I will of course, and in three years you may be reading a wistful blog post about my departure from a life in South America.  The point though, is that for a few weeks, being back in Germany, a country I love and respect, somehow manages to make me homesick for the very place I’m sitting.  I drank a Milchkaffee in the Frankfurt train station, and the smell and taste brought back memories of a happy life.  I had a similar reaction when I had my first sip of Hefeweizen beer.  The language has come back to me much faster than I expected, (although this makes me fret about losing any feeble Spanish skills I might have) and it’s challenging my previously held belief that I suck at learning languages.  Overall I have a torn feeling, because I instantly feel comfortable and at ease in Germany, but I feel guilty for leaving Santiago.  Clearly I am overthinking things here, but these are all symptoms of my continuous search for home. 

Speaking of “home”, one locale I haven’t yet mentioned is the US.  I have a complicated relationship with the US, and every time I return I feel conflicted all over again.  On the one hand, my family and so many good friends are in the US, I understand how the country and culture work, I speak the language, and there are places and people that make me extremely happy.  Despite tension over immigration issues, Americans are still more accepting and welcoming to foreigners than many other countries I’ve visited.  The culture is rich and diverse, and there are so many beautiful cities and towns and national parks.  People in the US are innovative and optimistic, and genuinely friendly.  The US is a great country, no doubt, but it isn’t the only great country (the Republicans are going to hang me for saying that).  The US is extremely divided, with a toxic political discourse that makes me ill, and economically is headed backwards and seems unable to adjust to new global economic situations.  Socially, the country is also regressing and manages to be the only developed nation that doesn’t believe that every human being deserves a chance to succeed.  There is no salient energy policy, and people somehow blame the government for gas prices that are already artificially low.  There is hardly a mass transportation system, and it’s close to impossible to survive without a car.  And to top it off, there have been three mass shootings in the past three months, and the response of many is that we need more guns.  It’s a fact that those living in the US are four times more likely to be murdered than those in the United Kingdom, six times more likely than in Germans and 13 times more likely than those in Japan.  I know the odds are still in my favor, but do I want to raise my children in a country that bans a shot of a topless woman but glorifies violent slayings in the average TV show?

I’m overly critical of the US because it is my country; it’s where I come from and I feel a sense of responsibility.  And because it was home for so long, it tugs at my heart strings whenever I visit.  The US hasn’t been my home since 2009.  It’s hard to say this, but I visit, and I love it, but I’m not sure if it’s home anymore.  It might be in the future, but I’m genuinely frustrated with the situation and I’m not sure if the US is the place I agree with.  This is painful, because my family is there and a major piece of feeling at home is family.  But I’ve created family in Germany and in Chile too, so no matter where I live I will always be missing something.  This will always be true, no matter what, and I suppose the best option I have is to find the place where I feel the most at peace.

I realize this all sounds very fatalistic and depressing, and I don’t mean it to be that way.  I know that I’m so, so lucky to have had the opportunities that I have, and the fact that there are three continents that make me feel at home is very fortunate.  I guess I’m just feeling reflective upon a return to Germany, and I have an overall feeling of agitation because I’m no longer actively working towards any goal.  I don’t have a day to day job, and while I have jobs and tasks to fill my day, I don’t feel a driving sense of purpose.  (I also don’t feel much of a cash flow, which also dampens my mood.)  This is all part of finding my footing in Chile, and I’m confident and optimistic about my options.  It will take time for sure, but patience has never been one of my strongest attributes. 

Things will work out, I’m confident of that, but I have to remind myself that I need to make myself happy in the present, and not wish for the past or fret over the future.  If I can’t find a sense of contentment today, what’s to say that I will find it after I’ve completed x, y and z?

I want to end this post on an upbeat note, because that really is how I feel.  I’m in for Kassel spending time with some of my favorite people, and I have a month in the US to look forward to afterwards.  I’ll say it again: I’m very lucky and I know this.  Most people don’t have the luxury of being able to work from anywhere, and having a combination of funding sources that allows this kind of trip is extremely fortunate. 

So with that, I’ll leave you with a promise to write more often, share more pictures, and I'll try to be less melodramatic.  

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