It all hangs on what is home? Our basic instinct is to be safe. But even my first memories were about restlessness. School, schedules, expectations, responsibility all seemed to conspire to beat all spontaneity out of me, telling me to be safe, to build a hut, then a cottage, then an apartment, then a house, mansion and finally a fortress so I can retire.
What if we don't belong in a fortress or a house. I'm not saying I prefer to live in the street either but I've learned that at least for me, restlessness is my home. And allowing the yearning to seek out answers, companionship, love, truth in an often chaotic cruel world, is where we belong. Shutting it out cannot make us "safe" but we'll never find the answers our soul seems to be born to discover.
The title is in deference to L’étranger by Albert Camus which begins "Aujourd'hui, maman est morte. Ou peut-être hier, je ne sais pas." Today mama died, or maybe yesterday. I don't know...
Depressing but also true because whether we hold on to mama, miss her or don't care, nothing changes the death. So many try to shake off or escape the sadness that awaits all of us when someone close goes forever. We can have faith we'll see them again but it does not change the departure or how it affects how we feel.
Feeling like a foreigner and awareness of an impending end of life, is our human condition. It was designed to push us forward, not cause is to retreat of hide. Even if we numb ourselves, the pain of loss always catches up later as the stranger of Albert Camus later shoots a man.
Like the life which we did not have until we were born, this yearning to belong, to share ourselves, to see, to embrace, to learn, to cry out is to overcome our inborn emptiness. We often feel alone. Out of place. Like a stranger.
Finally, I see why this is a good thing to feel out of place. It'll come in very useful for this age of light-speed change to find answers with those who care.
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