“Everything transitory – the knower and the known.”
– Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
What does it take for a place to feel like home? When does a body, a living being, choose to settle, and stops looking at the surrounding environments as exclusively transient? How long does it take for a relationship between a human and a place to flourish? And a place… all the agreements and relationships between plants and animal species, between insects and trees, between blue and green, between the endless variations. How long did it take for this place to become the place I know it to be? How often, how quickly is it changing? Can I holistically understand it, even if I can’t insularly acquaint every aspect of it?
These last few weeks, but more generally, ever since COVID sent us home so abruptly, I’ve noticed that the spaces and rhythms here, that life itself in Apopka feels different this time. I’ve somehow come to feel that I am a part of it, and that it is a part of me. For the first time in almost six years, I have a palpable sense of belonging. As my family slowly, and only partially, has begun the ‘leaving’ process from Northern Guatemala and settled in this small town in Central Florida, I have noticed that my connection to this place feels more meaningful. Apopka before was the town I had randomly encountered. I had randomly lived in. I had randomly gotten to meet. It was devoid of a grounding relationship; it lacked a permanent sense of joy. I barely cared enough to interact with it, and that apathy always seemed to be reciprocated.
Family life, family joy, family relationships bring to the surface how interconnected my wellbeing and the wellbeing of my place are. Family has turned a random town my home, and has nourished a commitment to learning it. Relationships, to me, always feel necessary in learning processes. As overwhelming and immense as my ignorance about my surroundings may occasionally feel, it is now an ignorance I care to acquaint, to explore, to deconstruct, to replace.
Wow, Phoebe….I love your writing. I feel a resonance with you, through your writing, and what you share in our meetings–I look forward to speaking with you in person when it is possible, I think we would have a lot to talk about 🙂 “Everything is transitory–the knower and the known”….ahhhh….that strikes the core of my being, as does this piece exploring ‘home’….I am struck by the “randomness” of you ending up in Apopka, and how that randomness set the stage for where you are now…perhaps, how you ended up a Wellesley student? (I had a similar, random move that resulted in me being at Wellesley)….Have you heard of chaos theory/the butterfly effect? … I can’t wait to talk to you in person!!
This is a really beautiful and poetic piece of writing Phoebe. Oddly enough, the beginning of the piece reminded me of this book: The Age of Surveillance Capitalism by Shoshana Zuboff since she too begins her writing speaking about the concept of home. In particular, she describes it as a feeling and a place to return to. Finally, I really like your line: “I barely cared enough to interact with it, and that apathy always seemed to be reciprocated.”
“What does it take for a place to feel like home?” Such a great question! I think it takes intention, a willingness to even want to call a place home. You say that Apopka is no longer a random place, it has value and meaning. To feel that a place is home and that you belong can be so undervalued but it’s so important. Then you add in getting to know the nature of a place and an even deeper connection to that place is made. I wonder what you and the other interns consider Wellesley to be… I also wonder what is means when a place has become a home. Very thoughtful post!