Homesick

The word for today is HOMESICK. Being HOMESICK, like being lovesick, indicates a state of longing, of yearning; it implies that this longing is a bad and unhealthy state. Instead of HOMESICK, I'd like to call the feeling homelove.

After years of great personal effort, and thanks to the support of many friends and colleagues, I have gotten over being lovesick. What is the best way to put it? I have conquered being lovesick, I have accepted it as a part of my essence, something that I do not have to struggle with, a longing that I can satisfy by focusing on and developing aspects of myself and my faith in something much larger.

Another way I have dealt with being lovesick is by changing my focus. I no longer fall in love with people, I fall in love with places. When I find a place that I cherish, it stays with me no matter where I am. For me places have personalities and moods, they can inspire my happiness or fuel my fulfillment, secure my safety. Places are very important to me.

It is now four years since I have moved from Maine to the Midwest. On most days, my intention is to be where I am, to experience and enjoy my surroundings, BUT I cannot get over being HOMESICK. During Census training I think about canvassing addresses in Maine, instead of Evanston and Rogers Park. I think about all the funky structures I used to see, the doublewides, the yurts, the barns, the lighthouses, the old mills--all of which serve as residences. I think about the gravel roads I'd walk down, the peninsulas with houses that are miles apart, hidden in the woods. Yes, this is nostalgic. There are new condominum developments and townhouses and group homes in Maine just like in the rest of the country. They are near rivers or bays or mountains or forests--and in my view that just makes them better.

Today, at lunchtime, I walked over to the new LL Bean store at the Old Orchard Mall in Skokie. I picked up an Outdoor Discovery Program catalogue thinking that there might be some local events in the Chicagoland area. All the events are either held in Freeport Maine or in Maryland. The catalogue is full of photographs of Casco Bay. I see Fort Gorges, which is located on a small island I could see every morning when Rosie and I walked the trail along Casco Bay. I see the view from Wolfe's Neck Farm and the islands off of Freeport. I had found the most beautiful place in the world, and then I left.

When it was time to leave Maine I knew I would miss the bay and the islands more than anything else. Even more than the precious, precious friends who nursed me through many a lovesick episode, who helped me become a fuller and deeper person. I remember saying goodbye to the view that last early spring. No more green rolling hill down to the bay, no more sailboats moored to their landings, no more islands spreading out to the horizon, no more forts, no more ferries and lighthouses. I remember this as well as I remember saying good bye to my best friend as she took the last few steps down my porch after helping me with my endless packing. I was sad, but excited to embark on a new adventure.

What would happen if I gave up my homesickness--either by returning to my beloved Maine, or embracing my life in Evanston/Chicago. I have tried to love the Midwest. I have driven through the rolling hills of southern Wisconsin, I have traveled across Illinois to see the mighty Mississippi, I have explored the southeastern shore of Lake Michigan, I have journeyed to the northern tip of Wisconsin to visit Door County, and also Lake Superior. It was only Lake Superior that truly spoke to me, only the very northern parts of Wisconsin and the western part of the Upper Peninsula that abuts it. These places reminded me of Maine, I could breathe some of the same chill and wildness.

If I gave up being HOMESICK I would have to make a decision. I would have to take action one way or another. I am not ready. My job coach dared me to start this blog--and I did. He also dared me to come up with a plan for returning East--and I have not.

Still, maybe I can use some of what I have learned about coping with lovesickness. What can I provide for myself that I have wanted from a loved one (or a loved place). How can I meet some of those unmet needs. While I'm in the Midwest, I need to take more roadtrips. I need to seek out elevation, I need to seek out large and wild bodies of water, national parks and forests, trails that go on for miles, places where the traffic is not powered by fossil fuels. I need to find places where I feel freedom and safety at the same time.

In the meantime, I'm going to a lecture on the geology of the Midwest. Maybe, just maybe I will learn to appreciate the flatness.

The song I offer for today is Simon and Garfunkel's "Homeward Bound."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JwQYH-6quEE

Oh, and another song for my morning people friends. (Might not really be a morning song, but it sure is pretty.) Norah Jones' "Sunrise."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-vOSlwLyyg