the small lake at my local park, from my February dreamboard.
We recently passed the one year mark of life here in Copenhagen. Baring lay-offs, we have a mandatory two-year assignment. But given Paul’s ship cycle, and what he needs to do for and with his team, we’re looking down the barrel of being here at least three years. … Can you tell by my metaphor how I am feeling about this?
For a long time I thought I would get used to being in Denmark. I was eager to live abroad, and I knew from experience that I like learning and living in cultures that are not my own. Plus, my graduate school was very international, and I enjoyed that mixed-culture experience very much. So I’ve been surprised at my inability to adjust to life abroad.
For the past year I’ve been on the “accentuate the positive” bandwagon most days– listing all the things I like about living here and trying to embrace the bits that I enjoy. But the reality is, while I like living outside of the U.S., DK is not the best fit for me.
February in northern winters is by far the hardest month. So much so that at my Seattle college our advisors told the freshmen to “never change your boyfriend, your haircut, or your major in February.” Nonetheless, February is when it struck me that maybe I am not going to come to terms with it. Maybe this is never going to fit right, to become my community, to feel like home.
I was listening to a story on This American Life recently in which the narrator was describing a heated debate between two political opponents. He noticed that the only time the crowd seemed to be experiencing something as a joint experience was when photos of the war were put up on a screen. When that happened stillness filled the room. What he said about this still space was this:
“Forget all the arguments. Let’s just sit by this lake, and try to figure out its name.”
At first I didn’t understand why this phrase was capturing my heart. Then Jena pointed out that the whole story was using the language of struggle and that I have been living in midst of two great struggles: the struggle to live cross-culturally; and the struggle to live with chronic pain. For a long time I’ve thought that there were only two choices about how to respond to these struggles: “Stand and Fight,” or “Lay Down and Die.” But what if there is a third way? What if it involves sitting in the place where stillness pools. What if it involves turning around, looking into the face of loneliness, and saying, “Okay, so you’re here now. Have a seat.” What if it involves—not a frantic search for meaning—but just sitting on a park bench and waiting to see what happens. What if? What if?
I want to step out of the struggle. I want to stop trying to like it here. I want to stop trying to be brave about being in pain. I want to step out of the energy of the struggle, sit by the lake, and see if it will tell me its name.
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{ 21 comments… read them below or add one }
beautiful Rachelle, bless you in this new embrace. may the release from struggle free up energy for further creative unfolding!
This is a powerful idea. My own struggle has been below the surface for a good long while and has culminated in someone saying yesterday, just call a damn therapist already and so, with a phone call, I’ve shrugged off the burden of the struggle or at the very least am not trying to carry it all by myself anymore.
Thank you for sharing.
wow this is beautiful. and very helpful for me to read at this moment.
thanks for sharing.
<3
I love this idea. One thing my therapist has told me repeatedly is to let feelings come, to not assign a judgment to them, and to just sit and let them be. She always said to observe them, like clouds in the sky: “Oh, there’s sadness.” It works for me most of the time.
I think that often times, people who have been raised in Christian Faith feel this pressure to be joyful all the time (maybe people outside too, just seems very prevalent in religion, joy of the Lord, etc.). The truth I’ve discovered is that lots of people feel OK, or even a bit sad lots of the time. And it’s OK.
I think you’re wise not to devote any more energy to “looking on the bright side” or feeling that pressure to. Just let your feelings unfold. Growth often comes in the darkest hours.
Sending you hope and blessing.
I can totally relate. It is difficult to live cross-culturally. Europe is different. And I’m telling you this as a European … well. I also agree that winter is hard in the North. If you ever want to go a little bit South, come visit Hamburg. Spring is lovely here, and sometimes a change of scenery (or jumping cultures, or something) can help locate the things that may fit better than we actually thought. If that makes sense at all.
After over three years of living as an expat, I realize that at some point, I finally stopped trying to assess, evaluate, categorize, temper and otherwise manage my feelings about life here. It is a huge relief not to have a running commentary of evaluation playing alongside every experience. I can’t say when this happened — it was surely a gradual process. But you are smart to step out. I think it will help.
thanks for wriitng this. And right after I read it, I found this which made me think of you….
http://kalman.blogs.nytimes.com/2007/02/06/the-impossibility-of-february/
ah yes
the third way
may i sit with you on that park bench for awhile?
Rachelle
Thank you for this.
And blessings to you, as you Be where you are…
Kelly
Thank you for sharing this. I found it deeply moving and more helpful than I can say here.
wow…this is powerful. let’s. let’s just sit by the lake…where stillness pools. exquisite. yes.
blessings to you dear soul,
gem
Thank you all for your encouraging words. Most days this week have been a struggle, to turn and look at the present and just sit by the lake. (Instead of leaping into a series of “I wants” and longings for something other which just cannot be fulfilled.) I’m glad I have some company on my bench by the lake.
Rachelle, great post. One of my mentors used to tell me a story about HER spiritual director, who told her she was “like a jar of river water, all shaken up.” And what would make the water clear? (she’s not the first person to ask or answer that question) Stillness.
Don’t give up yet. I’ve had a very hard life the last few years. Not even sure how long it’s been, but at least 2 years. And yet…
In the last year, I am really learning to focus on the positives and take the lesson and follow my dreams. People from the outside only seem to see what a lovely life I have, because I have created it, even out of the struggle. It’s still hard, but it is also lovely. It’s taken me a long time to get here, and for a long time, I had to be very diligent about finding the lovely things. I used to make a list everyday. And that helped me work through the not lovely and continue to move forward.
It is about accepting where you are. It is about allowing yourself to feel what you feel without judgment. It is about looking for the good. It is about taking the lesson. And it is not a straight line. It’s very difficult and it is easy to backslide.
But I think I’ve become closer to the person I have always wanted to become precisely because of the struggle.
It’s worth it.
Bless you precious woman…
And your magnificent,
heart,
life
and soul.
xoxoox
Sorry to come so late to this post, but I had to post a comment just to say I’m thinking of you by that lakeside. Wishing you stillness.
Once again you spoke to my heart. I wish many great things for you and one of those things is to just BE.
peace,love,joy
Lissa
This was beautifully written. I think I came to a similar realization a year or so ago. What’s helped me is to create my own haven and just live how I want, or as close to how I want to live here as I can. I don’t think it’s us, though. Denmark is just a very different country and culture.
A still sit by a clear lake sounds good…I’ll join you for a while.
Just gorgeous. The sound of the waves lapping. The sound of the tangle untangling. The sound of a good cry.
I loved this post so much, and showed it to a friend over coffee on my phone. I think “stepping out of the struggle” became her new mantra.