Re-entry: Part One

We have returned to America.  Or more accurately, the land of consumption, excess and drama.  Seriously people, I was not prepared.  In the two years we were away I had been back for a handful of visits, mostly due to family situations and preplanned events.  Never for more than a few weeks at a time.  Those times I didn’t identify as a resident, mostly a tourist, someone on assignment, if you will.  And now one week in it is clear, life is different here.  We are different.  I am changed.  This place, that is at once familiar and unfamiliar has changed.  Morphed and lived and strained and moved on.  And so have we.  

Home is a complicated word.  There are unexplored depths and possibilities and tangled meanings for most of us.  For me that word has always meant, or rather, has come to mean, where my people are.   Regardless of place and surroundings.  I know it sounds lame and sweet like syrup but it is the truth.  For me.  No surprise then, that upon our return to Nashville, TN, our closest friends and family have been asking the question, “So, are you home?”.  I don’t fault them for their curiosity.  Not in the least.  Rather, I stare blankly in response.  Home.  Sure, our four children are here.  In closer proximity, but if in that question the underlying inquiry is, are you staying, then NO.  As we say, “We're here until we’re not”.  And that is where we find ourselves; Here.  A return from a foreign land, entering another somewhat foreign land.    Does this even make sense?  If not, I’ll blame the jet lag.  The temporary housing situation and our transiency, still.  After seven days, people.  Send help.  And croissants.  And Viennese coffee.  Stat.  

So, questions and homecomings and celebratory reunions of all manner have welcomed us with fury.  All the while I have been trying to pay attention to my body.  To what my mind isn’t able to articulate.  Move slowly back into the fold.  Cautiously, and with no expectations.  Yet still, the waves are approaching.  No, more like they are enveloping me.  All the contrast between this place and where we were.  Front and center.  Impeding upon all my sensibilities.  And how.  Jared used that metaphor, the one of the wave.  It has since served as a visual for me to explain the feelings.  The constant affront of all the different.  Let me offer a few examples.  Pick up trucks.  Everywhere.  Bigger, better and more.  In all the things.  From groceries to restaurants.  There seems to be a pervasive mindset here that I wasn’t quite as aware of prior to our experience abroad.  Now, though, I see it everywhere.  Invading minds and attitudes, values and lifestyles.  Strange isn’t it?  The rose colored lens we choose to view our environment with.  Or the more realistic, critical lens we are able to choose as well.  One isn’t better or worse, bad or good, no, that is far too dualistic an approach for this.  It is different.  And it is all right to acknowledge it as such.  

I have had multiple near meltdowns in the stores here.  Induced by the aisles upon aisles of choices.  Twenty different scented hand soaps and just as many brands to choose from.  Seriously, why does one need ten options for milk?  Is it really all that different from one farm to the next?  Please do not lecture me here on the value of a free market or capitalist construct.  I know.  I am thankful for the opportunities here in this land.  I am just returning from a  place where I didn’t have the space for a weeks worth of groceries in my cupboards or my refrigerator.  The market I frequented was about as large as the coffee shop I’m currently sitting in.  Overwhelming is the understatement of the century. 

Don’t even get me started on Target.  Now, I am a fan.  Target is one stop shopping.  Toiletries, groceries, home goods and medicine all in one place.  I am here for it.  Except maybe now I’m not.  I don’t think I can be.  Yesterday, while perusing the aisles in search of two necessary items I came undone.  Of course it was due to the sheer scale of the store, the way my gut began churning when I started dwelling on the excessiveness of this all.  All of the accessories, the plastic, the paper products and on and on and on, waiting to be purchased, whether necessary or not.  Understand me, I am not above an impulse buy or any other consumer trend.  No, not at all, I am simply trying to make sense of it all here.   

Ok, the next stark contrast for me is the lack of environmentally friendly options.  If I were a customer at a cafe in Vienna, even if just stopping in for a melange, I would be served in a proper cup.  Read: not plastic.  When eating a meal, the cutlery and serving ware would all be non disposable.  There is something so civilized about that.  I have come to appreciate the time and attention expected.  Not for another’s pleasure, but my own personal experience.   I can’t help but think that all this disposable ware is more of a metaphor for the mental state and prevailing attitude in general.  Further research is needed but I am here for that.  I see myself becoming one of those people that carries her own cutlery, metal straw and drinking vessels, to all the places.  Maybe it will spark a movement or at least a new level of awareness.  Mind you, some of this is directed toward our stewardship of the world we’ve been given and another piece is a quality of life issue.  There is something to be said for sitting down, pausing and taking a moment.  As I typed that word I heard it being spoken in German; “Ein Moment," with a very specific inflection on the “Ent”.  Gosh, how I miss hearing that.  There was a sentence I couldn’t have imagined typing.  Not ever.  

There is a general buzz in the air.  I realize how generic and stereotypical this may come across.  I am simply sharing my observations here.  Everyone seems to be multi tasking, running from place to place, one scheduled event to the next, productivity on an uber scale.  And for why?  That’s my question, where is the downtime?  The built in rest or moments to enjoy? Not one person encountered thus far, and mind you, I am only one week in here, seems to notice or even recognize this.  It is fair to say this is a way of life; An expected attitude and demeanor by one and all.  And this, my friends, is where I will pause, inhale and then exhale in relief and gratitude.  Gratitude for the opportunity to have experienced an alternative way of living.  An exceptional quality of life that was not only encouraged culturally but widely accepted in both the workplace and one’s personal life.  It was, perhaps, one of the most beautiful practices I witnessed in Vienna.  A way of living that I will certainly do my best at implementing here, in this new space.  The five weeks of holiday and thirteen national holidays helped in facilitating this way of life.  Not to mention the standard rule that if you are ill staying home and resting is mandatory.  Do not even consider entering the workplace until you are completely healed and at your best.  And you will be paid, of course.  Pay attention people.  This is possible.  Throwing the idea out there for further thought.  

My list continues to grow with observations, cultural and otherwise.  Some are relative and others specific to people groups, geographic locations and subversive value systems that have been encouraged and perpetuated that I no longer subscribe to.  As I continue on, here in this space of contrary and new and different, I need to pay attention.  Listen.  Still myself, mind and body included.  It might not always feel this way, like the wave crashing over us, or maybe it will.  For now though, it does and I am acknowledging it in this space I’ve created.  

A few updates, unrelated, but possibly not, to this post and reentry in general.  Our family, all six Hansons, are living within a twenty minute drive, door to door.  That is no small feat.  Also, one I don’t expect to last for too long so I am going to maximize this time together like nobody’s business.  That’s the thing dear ones, when you raise adults to be adventurous and independent and have a zeal for life it should be no surprise when they actually go out and do such things.  Right?  I mean, I guess not, but still, this Mama’s heart feels that tug, that beating outside the skin feeling when the letting go continues.  And it does continue.  That is certain.  Brief tangent there.  Thing 4 is scheduled for shoulder surgery at the end of this month.  He tore the labrum in a skateboarding incident prior to our departure from Vienna.  The doctor here concluded that surgery was a necessity and therefore his employment and football plans have been put on hold due to the four month recovery that was predicted.  Yikes!  We’re thankful for insurance and access to health care and all the things but this was an unexpected hiccup. I guess they never are really expected, right?  Other than his current predicament Thing 4 is adjusting and reconnecting with friends and trying to sort out what his life looks like here in TN.  Other updates include the mundane tasks of finding a vehicle, a more permanent housing situation for when our goods arrive stateside and potentially employment for myself.  I also hope not be living out of suitcases until mid April.  Seems reasonable, no?  

You can count on me for continued updates of some sort.  Realizations, observations, a decent level of sarcasm, humor and less harshness.  Fingers crossed.  Either way, here I am Nashville, what’s next?  I will state here, I reserve the right to change my thoughts and perspectives, just as one would expect as the water becomes less muddled in my heart and mind.  Thanks for understanding.