Ongrowing’s January 9th letter with guest writer, Fresh
Previous issue: New beginnings
Hello!
I’m finally back from vacation and, like many, are resuming work. The transition has been stretching. There’s this expectation that we’d be all charged up and rested after the holidays, but I wonder if it works that way. We’ve been exhausted by the keeping up with the ever-shifting situation of the pandemic. Sometimes, it feels endless. I realized that we can’t benchmark ourselves to the same productivity standards we used; it doesn’t account for the growing anxieties and uncertainties we face daily. Bottom line is cut yourself some slack if you’re still on vacation mode. We all deserve more mental break.
A few weeks ago, I came across a publication on Substack, which presents guest writers every now and then. It was so refreshing to read the variety of voices that was featured, and this in turn inspired me to start a similar initiative. So, hear me out, my plan for now is to invite one guest writer every month-ish to share their story, whether it’s something that has been keeping them up at night or a profound lesson they’ve recently learned. If you’re interested in participating or know of someone who might be a great fit, please do let me know!
Today’s Story
For today’s issue, I invited Fresh to write about what’s been on his mind lately, and here’s what he wrote us:
Happy New Year!
As my first time writing to the wonderful Ongrowing community, I’m very excited. I’ve been reading some of the honest and eye-opening meditations Fair brings to this space and I feel inspired to share some of my own.
First off, just a bit about myself! My name is Fresh. As a philosopher and activist, I’m passionate about exploring, from a wellbeing lens, the queer identity, growing climate anxiety, and the existential dread of living in a capitalist society.
A few days ago, I flew back home after spending six months away at university. After two agitated years fermenting at home over quarantine, the transition to university came as a steep but much-needed shock. It was my first time living abroad, not to mention, my first time without my family. My Philadelphian and Bostonian days were colored with excitement and anxiety, imagination and disappointment, exploration and exhaustion, desire and heartbreak, and lots and lots of learning.
As I packed my luggages for the big flight home, it occurred to me that most of the weight I’m carrying did not count towards the 23-kilogram baggage allowance. Instead, I had become heavy with the radical and transformative experiences of my first semester.
What I could not ready myself for, however, was the disorienting flood of emotions upon seeing Bangkok. Though I had expected my return to be this grand, wholesome reunion, the reality was quite the opposite. My taxi ride through my home city was no parade march. Instead, I perused through the familiar buildings like the worn pages of a bedtime story book I had outgrown.
I felt lost, estranged, and maybe even a little feral. The sight of the city and its people no longer inspired the same compassion and humility and kinship. I looked on with indifference, if not the slightest pity. And on top of all of this, I felt ashamed. Ashamed to be this willfully ignorant stranger in my very own home.
I later realized that those feelings I felt are normal and not at all uncommon. My sense of home was simply being challenged by new life experiences. Our relationship with home is a nuanced and dynamic one. We often expect home to be a feeling we can return to, like a buried treasure chest under a marked ‘X’. But the truth is that home can change along with us.
The Writing Prompt
How do we stay grounded with an ever-changing sense of home? Is our sense of home created or acquired?
What is the most meaningful way to define home—physically, culturally, spiritually? Hey, is a sense of home even necessary for our wellbeing?
I would love to hear your thoughts on these prompts, especially from those of you who travel or relocate a lot.
As I reflected on these questions, it dawned on me that navigating the loss or displacement of home is a familiar existential concern for many individuals throughout space and time. For many Indigenous peoples, home has been stripped and extracted by violent settlers. For the Black people displaced in the transatlantic slave trade, home was involuntarily abandoned. For disowned queer and trans youth, home is chosen and fostered. And at a more abstract (but not absurd) level, our shared planetary home is being threatened by climate change.
I find that it is important to engage with and meditate on my sense of home. I hope my writing has provided some food for thought for you. As you reflect on home—both in a personal and collective sense—please feel free to let me know your thoughts!
Have a safe trip home,
Fresh and Fair
So beautifully written Fresh. "I felt lost, estranged, and maybe even a little feral" - My favorite line and this piece really struck a chord with me. I loved your reflections about reconciling a once familiar home with all of your new growth and experiences, and also your recognition of how different groups of people have navigated and experienced displacement historically, as well as the inevitable displacement of home for humans with climate change. Thank you for this thoughtful piece!
I love this piece. I reflect a lot on what "home" means to me as someone who travels a lot and often finds community and kinship in places and people so dissimilar to what I grew up around. I recognize, after some life-experimentation, that I feel grounded in movement and flow, and that, yeah, home is where my heart feels most safe. :) Thank you for your musings, Fresh!