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Letting go of your future self in favour of your current self

When you decide to immigrate, you start imagining what your new life is going to be like. You conduct research about your new home and you try to put as much as possible in place. But in all honesty, no amount of preparation or research can prepare you for how your future self will handle a future life in an unknown place. I’ve been in Canada for eight months now, and I am yet to find some sort of equilibrium. I had big ideas and big dreams, but I can honestly say that I was wholly unprepared for my future self’s response to this transition.

Some people seem to have a clear sense of who they are. Or perhaps they haven’t taken the time for the introspection required to realise who they are. Either way, they don’t seem to have this internal struggle that I find myself battling every day. The struggle to know who I am and to anticipate what my future self will want and how she will react in different situations.

As someone who values order and structure, I like to have a plan for whatever I take on in life. And I suppose right there was my first mistake – assuming that a plan would make the transition easier. It did not. In fact, in some instances, I believe having a plan made matters worse, because as you can imagine, life is not bothered with your plans. What’s the saying? “Life is what happens while you are busy making plans” … This is how I’ve felt over the last eight months. I’ve been making one plan after another and it seems my life has been living itself. Or perhaps my life has morphed and taken on a “life” of its own, whilst I was trying to reign it in and “mould” (read “force”) it to my will…

What any wise person would tell you, is that when you fight against the flow of life, everything feels like a struggle. It is so much easier to give up to the flow of life. I still believe there are times, when the right thing to do, IS to fight against or to swim against the stream – the times when giving in means sacrificing your values or who you are. But on most other days, fighting against life, is actually denying your real self to come to the fore and figuring out who you are and what you want.

Typical of my ambitious nature, I had set many goals for this “new life” of mine. I was going to transform myself into a fitter, healthier, more productive and more successful version of myself…

But I severely underestimated what disconnection, loneliness, heartache, homesickness and overwhelm can do to your sense of self and your desire to even want to strive towards goals. I am an optimistic and dynamic person by nature. I have always relied on my resilience and my ability to bounce back from setbacks. And although I told myself it was going to be difficult, I still somehow believed that I would just “get over it and move on”.

I could not have been more wrong. Fit and healthy. Forget about it. Four months of the most extreme cold I had ever experienced, and incredible loneliness meant I gave up running altogether and decided to eat my sorrows away. Of course, as everyone knows, eating when you’re sad and depressed, just leads to even greater sadness and more eating. Vicious cycle. Before you know it, you don’t recognise the person in the mirror staring back at you.

Add to the mix, six months of severe sleep deprivation. Baby was struggling with this new adjustment just as much as we were, and she decided that the best way to deal with her chaotic and overwhelming emotions, was to cling to Mummy for dear life and never sleep. So, I spent the first six months of our stay in Canada sleeping no more than 3 hours a night. Being an insomniac meant that I was used to only sleeping a few hours a night, but broken, interrupted sleep is soooo much worse than sleeping uninterrupted; if only for a few hours… Eventually, you don’t know who you are anymore. Nothing makes sense and your concentration levels are below zero. You struggle to find any inspiration and eventually just give up on trying.

Four months of living in temporary accommodation added to the uncertainty and overwhelm we were feeling. It is the hardest thing to try and implement some sort of routine when you know everything you do, is only temporary and will have to change at a moment’s notice. There’s this growing movement of young people opting out of the normal routine of life and electing to become nomadic travellers. It’s a spin-off of living more minimalistically. They are just settling anywhere they end up and then only for a short period of time, before moving on. If my husband and I were younger and we did not have a baby, I would have seen this transition as an adventure – a way for us to become nomadic travellers and see more of the world. But the moment you have kids, your perspective changes. I’m not saying being nomadic parents can’t work, I just know it can’t work for us. I’ve seen how the lack of routine and security has affected our little one and I believe that children function better in a secure environment with routines in place. Now I know a lot of that comes down to you as the parent. You provide the security and the structure and the routine. But that requires that YOU have a strong sense of self and that YOU feel grounded. And I had lost my ground. I felt lost to myself and to the world.

I knew I had to be strong for the little one, but as the weeks turned into months and I felt my sense of self slip further and further away, it became increasingly difficult to find and maintain a stable and secure sense of self. Don’t get me wrong, I tried. I really did. I tried multiple times to register with a family doctor to obtain some help – six times with no success in the last eight months. I tried running by myself. I signed up for different training classes – from yoga to kickboxing. I tried reshuffling my routine about a hundred times. I read books, and blogs and watched videos and tried to “counsel” myself. I tried exploring new places. I even tried speaking to a psychologist about the fact that I’m battling to adjust. Not only did I receive no sympathy or understanding, I also found myself explaining the basics of psychology to this person who was supposed to help me. When it got to a point where I was answering her questions about basic personality types and the role of values in one’s life, I decided that this particular counsellor-patient relationship was not going to work.

So, what have I learnt over the last eight months?

First, figure out if you really know your current self. The real you. Not your ideal self or the person you tell other people you are or the person you hope to become or the person you hope to find by moving to the other side of the world – your real self. The one you are now. The person you are when no-one else is around. The self that skips the gym and chooses to veg on the couch watching Netflix instead. The self that eats the chocolate instead of the salad, because even though you know the salad is better for you, the chocolate makes you hate your life less right now.

What I always intuitively knew about myself, but did not want to acknowledge to myself, was how much I actually depend on other people. I try to convince myself that I don’t need other people. But I do. More than the average person does. As an Ennea 6, I don’t always trust my inner voice, so I often turn to others for confirmation of what I intuitively know, but don’t trust is the right thing for me unless someone else somehow validates it for me. Of course, the most important personal growth I can accomplish, is learning to trust my inner voice more and rely less on others’ validation. However, I don’t think the best way to do that, is to remove all people from your life in one instant. All this does, is cripple you and make you feel completely disconnected and isolated. In stead of finding ways to trust myself more and build my own confidence, all I ended up doing was mourning the loss of those I hold dear; wishing I was with them once more and replaying old memories over and over and basically getting stuck in the past, missing a life I had so carelessly given up without even realising WHAT I was giving up…

Second, make plans. Do research, but don’t imagine that anything will pan out the way you think it will. Be ready for curve balls. Know that the unexpected will happen and it will catch you off guard and you will doubt yourself and even regret leaving your comfort zone. But accept that life is going to happen regardless of your planning or lack thereof and that at the end of the day, you will either make a choice or the choice will be made for you.

Third, know that people back home won’t always understand. They will try to be supportive and they will try to give you “advice” but keep in mind that some experiences are difficult to relate to if you haven’t been through them yourself. Try to remember how you thought it was going to be, when you were still back home and only planning this transition and then you will begin to understand how those back home see it and why they don’t always understand. Forgive them for that, because it doesn’t mean they don’t love you. The fact that they are trying so hard to “help” means just that: they love you. And it is hard for them to see you this way and to not know how to make it better.

Fourth, it is important to find people who are in the same boat as you, who have gone through it, because they get it. But choose carefully. Some people are much further along in the journey than you are and might have forgotten what it feels like to be in the starting gate. They have left the scared, lonely and uncertain versions of themselves behind and are building new lives for themselves and your sad demeanour actually makes them uncomfortable. Find people who can be comfortable with your sadness and your homesickness. For me, personally, I avoid older South Africans who left South Africa more than 20 or 30 years ago. They grew up in a different time and they don’t have the same memories or feelings about South Africa. They don’t get me, and they don’t know the South Africa that I know. I love my country and I did not embark on this journey to run away from my home. I embarked on this journey to grow and stretch myself, for new learning opportunities and to ensure a future for my child.

Fifth, be kind to yourself. The biggest mistake I made, was not being kind to myself. I could not “forgive” myself for not “getting over it and moving on”. I would beat myself up over every little failure along the way. Eventually, I just became a shadow of my past self. I didn’t recognise myself and felt like I had no control over my life. Of course, I would berate myself for it, consequently making a bad situation worse. So, don’t set too many big goals for the first year. Your only goal should be to find a new normal. That’s it. What is normal for me in my new life? What does my routine look like? What do I like about my new life and my new environment, that I can consciously try to bring into my life more often?

Sixth, cry. Cry as much as you need to. Acknowledge to yourself how you really feel. Be willing to experience even your deepest and darkest emotions, because the only way to the other side, is through it. You have to feel the loneliness, the self-doubt, the anger, the frustration, the sadness, the despair. Only then can you move to a new sense of calm, serenity and joy. I have managed a few days of calm and joy. But unfortunately, most of my days are still filled with loneliness, self-doubt, despair, anger and frustration. I suppose, because I was trying to ignore how I was feeling and move on despite how I was feeling, I have inadvertently delayed the healing process. So now, I try to feel all of it and I let myself be sad and weak. I allow myself the space to be tired or to feel like nothing works and I work through it, in the hope that I will find release or salvation on the other side of the difficult emotions…

Seventh, don’t stop loving. Don’t give up on the one’s you love; especially if your greatest sense of meaning lies in the abstract and in things like love, connection and family – which I imagine is where it is for most people; even when they don’t want to admit it to themselves. Find ways to connect. Find ways to remain actively involved in the lives of the people you care about. Hangouts and Skype can never replace the real thing, but it can make the pain bearable.

Lastly, budget. If there is one area of your life where you MUST have a plan, it is finances. Have a budget, stick to it and use it to build a life that works for you. For me, connecting with family and friends trumps anything else. So, I give up luxuries and any other non-essentials to save up and visit home. For now, it is the only way to stay sane. Perhaps that will change over time. But I have stopped trying to imagine I know what my future self would want, and I’ve decided that it makes more sense to focus on what would bring my current self a sense of purpose or joy. After all, my current self is real – flaws and all. She is still who I am right now; whereas my future self will be shaped by the choices I make today, and I want those choices to reflect a life of purpose, connection and value.

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Should you take your pets with you when you emigrate?

My two furry children, Darwin (left) and Snowy (right) with my not-so-furry child in the background. Happy care-free days in warm, sunny South Africa with them just lazing about.

For most of us, our pets are part of the family. In my case, I hand-raised my one cat. He was a feral kitten only 5 weeks old, and abandoned by his mother when I got him. He was completely wild. It was with great joy and pride that I managed to tame him enough to at least get him to behave in a civil manner towards the humans in his most immediate environment. Our second cat – imagines himself a dog – but is a lovable addition to our family, and to a great extent, they are my children. I know some would frown at this, but I also know that there are a lot of pet lovers out there that share my sentiment, and who get how easily an animal can claim a space in your heart and in your life and how difficult it is to just discard these special members of your family.

So, when my husband tried to convince me to move to Canada, one of my conditions was that I get to take my cats with me. They are my children after all, and I couldn’t bear to leave them behind. Of course I did the due dilligence and inquired from those already living in Canada whether they thought my cats would adjust to the new environment, especially considering how cold it gets in Canada. I was met with reassurance that they would be fine and would adjust quickly. In addition, Canada’s pet immigration policy is not as strict as other countries. As long as your pets are older than a year, their vaccination records are up to date and they pass their health exam in South Africa, they don’t have to go into quarantine. You get to take them home as soon as they arrive in Canada.

I took all of this as a sign that I was doing the right thing taking my cats with me to Canada. However, although the immigration process went smoothly for them and they arrived safely, they have struggled to adjust. Here is why…

There are three things to keep in mind when you are considering whether to take your pets with you when you immigrate.

Firstly, it is expensive. Really expensive. The cost of shipping a pet to another country is about double what your own plane ticket would cost you. They have to be vaccinated and subjected to medical exams and all of this cost money. Specialised crates need to be made for them to ship them and they are booked onto their own flights. The reason why your animals do not fly with you, is because the companies that ensure your pets’ safe transfer try to find the shortest possible route for them to travel with a stop over in between to give them a chance to rest and eat etc. Remember, that despite how taxing the long flight is for you, it is so much more overwhelming and traumatising for them. They are confined to a crate and are not allowed to eat on-route in case they get sick. They have no clue what is happening to them and you are not arround to comfort them. So it is quite a shock to the system. Also, animals cannot legally be sedated during long trips, because it constitutes animal cruelty. So they are simply provided calming treatments but are kept awake for the entire trip.

Secondely, when you arrive in your new country, you will have to find accommodation as a matter of urgency, and bringing pets along complicates matters, since most landlords do not allow pets. This eliminates many suitable housing options, because you have to find something that is pet-friendly. In Vancouver, landlords that allow pets charge an additional pet cover on top of your initial securing deposit, so you end up paying a double deposit on the accommodation. Most of the time the pet depost is for pet-incurred damages – i.e. pet hair, scratches or bite marks on furniture etc. – and is non-refundable. Even if your pet is usually well-behaved, they will most probably misbehave for the simple reason that they will arrive at your accommodation after a long and traumatising trip confined to a crate for many hours and then have to get used to an unfamiliar new environment. This is usually very distressful for most animals and they tend to act out, because they feel overwhelmed and confused. Our cats tore into the dining room chairs in our temporary accommodation and despite buying them not one, but three scratching posts, and various cat toys, they did not stop scratching the furniture. We ended up hiding the dining room chairs in the main bedroom walk-in closet at night while we slept and only taking them out when we really needed them. Desperate times called for desperate measures. We did not want to incur any penalties for damage to furniture in our temporary accommodation.

Lastly, if you decide to move to Canada, and you have a pet that spends more time outdoors than indoors, DO NOT believe people if they tell you that your animal will adjust to the climate in Canada. My cats are not your typical house cat. They used to spend most of their time playing outdoors or lying somewhere in the garden. They are fully house-trained in the sense that we did not even keep a litterbox for them in the house in South Africa. They had an open window for easy access to the house, but would “take care of business” outside in the garden.

Then we end up in Canada in the middle of winter and my poor cats are confined to the house for the first time in their short lives. Firstly, because we were staying in temporary accommodation when we arrived here, we did not want to let them out in case they wandered off and got lost. We decided to hold off untill we moved into a more permanent place. Unfortunately, what we did not bargain on was that our new house would be child-proof and what this means is that even the windows are childproof. They don’t open far enough for a cat to get through and all the windows are covered in guaze. Furthermore, staying in a townhouse means that we are not flat on the ground so they have quite a distance to jump if they were to get out.

I remained hopeful though, thinking we could use the window in the kitchen that goes out into the garden and at least give them some access to the garden. But there are two problems here. In winter, the snow presents an obstacle. They are not used to moving in snow and were completely freaked out by the snow. A side-note here, is that for dogs, it is even worse, because when it snows they cover the roads and sidewalks with salt to prevent people from slipping. However, the salt cuts into the dogs’ paws which means you have to get special socks for them to wear in the winter months if you want to take them outside. The second problem is that in summer, letting the cats out of the house might result in them becoming dinner. I asked locals here why we never see cats around and they explained that cat owners keep their cats indoors because the bears, coyotes and raccoons eat them. As luck would have it, we ended up renting in the Burke Mountain area, which is the prime spot for bears and coyotes in Vancouver. So my cats are still stuck in the house.

In retrospect, I find myself crying some days thinking that perhaps I did them an injustice by bringing them here. They have no clue what is happening and they don’t understand why they can’t go outside. Luckily our new house has a lot stairs and interesting places to climb and explore, so that keeps them busy and they seem to be settling in better than in the temporary accommodation.

Despite all of the frustration and trauma, these darling animals have still brought us comfort. They have served as welcome companions for my daugther who absolutely love having these furry friends to play with. She has learnt pretty quickly how to entice them to chase after a rope or a ball or any other fun object and they are spoilt with cuddles on a daily basis. As for me, having a furry friend on my lap on the days when the homesickness is strong, brings tremendous comfort. I have always felt calm in the presence of a purring cat and they have not dissappointed. Despite my husband’s complaints, both Emma and I enjoy their company and are grateful for the little bit of respite they bring. I can only hope that they are grateful to us for keeping them around instead of abadoning them to the care of someone else.

Most people are dog lovers. Most people do not like cats all that much. My cats have different personalities and are just as lovable as any dog. They just have sharper claws and more attitude. But I love them either way and I sleep easier knowing that being stuck inside, is still better than being left to their own resources, or worse perhaps facing a unceremonious end to their short little lives.

Darwin trying to find a comfortable spot in our temporary accommodation
Snowy exploring the stairs in our new house
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How to survive a loved one’s birthday when you are on the other side of the world

One of the hardest things about moving to another country, is missing out on family birthdays – especially when you are part of a close family who celebrate birthdays together. Nothing prepares you for the sadness that enfolds you when you realise someone you love is going to celebrate a birthday soon, and you will not be there to join in the fesitivities. Family birthdays are sometimes taken for granted… to the point where someone might even feel annoyed at the “disruption” to their schedule…

I LOVE family birthdays. Absolutely LOVE them. A birthday is the ONE day of the year, when you are allowed to let go and be spoiled a bit. The one day of the year, that really is your day – well at least a reminder of the day that you joined the human race. Being an introvert, I am not one for big bashes and surprise parties, but I love spending time with the people I love. For me, there is no greater gift than spending time with people who value me and see me for who I am.

And if you are wondering about the Five Love Languages, yes, mine is quality time. So that is what I want. Quality time with the people that matter. Time to eat, drink and talk, and just be present. And time to take in that specific moment in time, and perhaps pause it in your minds eye to try and remember it for what it is, so that you can replay it when you need it on lonely days. Time to appreciate. Time to listen. Time to learn about other people’s dreams, hopes and aspirations or the things that frustrate them and get them down. Time to connect.

Of course, spending quality time with someone requires that you undertake an enjoyable activity together, and give your undivided attention to the other person; which is becoming increasingly difficult in a time where we are always online and always “connected” and distracted, without realising that our real connections are slipping away. There is nothing like being pulled from your comfort zone and the things you took for granted, to make you realise instantly what you gave up and how much it enriched your life. And then you realise that perhaps those little things – birthdays spent with family, Sunday afternoon lunches, talking over the phone or going out for dinner or coffee with a friend – those where the things that actually made your life meaningful, and with those things now inaccessible, it is rather difficult to find alternative ways to meaning.

So how do you survive when someone back home is celebrating a birthday and you can’t be there? You order a gift online. You have it delivered at just the right time – which is tricky with a 10-hour time difference. You send well wishes via whatsapp or Facebook and you hope they will send some photos of what they are up to on the day. You wonder what they are doing and what they are talking about and if they even notice your absence.

And then you cry. You cry until there are no tears left to cry. And then you replay those moments you recorded in your mind of past events. You mentally replay every birthday, every special occasion. You remember where you were, what you ate, who you spoke to and how you felt. And all those memories merge into one giant melting pot of smiles and laughter and the aroma of good food and the comfort of good conversation and warm hugs. And you start planning your visit home. You promise yourself that you will take in every second of every day of your visit, so that you have new memories to replay in times of sadness…

I have “survived” 6 birthdays back home already. And it is only February. This is going to be a tough year. And of course I don’t even want to think of the birthdays we will be “celebrating” here – cut off both in physicality and time from those we love and not being able to share it with anyone. The short answer is, you don’t survive it. You bear it and you celebrate the person in their absence by reminding yourself why you love them, why they matter and how they have enriched your life and then you send them messages telling them how much they mean to you…

 

“Take the way home that leads back to Escombe Street.
Across the water and home through Germiston.
Past the shadow that fall down whenever we meet.
Pretty soon now, you won’t come around…

If you remember, don’t hide it whenever we meet…”

– Die Breyties, Escombe Street

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Trying to find the upside of loneliness

“Many people suffer from the fear of finding oneself alone, and so they don’t find themselves at all.” – Rollo May

To a lesser or greater extent, this is probably true of all of us – even introverts; or perhaps even more of introverts. Extroverts have other people to drown out the noise in their inner space. Introverts find activities. We think, we mull, we research, we brood, and we stay busy too avoid having to look inward.

The psychology of solitude studies how human beings are social creatures and how we struggle to deal with long periods of social isolation. If we are alone for too long, our mental faculties degrade, leading to deep despair, and even insanity. This explains why solitary confinement is such an effective punishment and/or torture method. As social animals, we cannot bear to be cut off from social interaction for too long. All of us recognise inside ourselves the need to find the balance between doing our own thing, and building relationships with others that can sustain us. Even if we only recognise it subconsciously. We all struggle to find this balance, because although we want and need relationships, they are also often the source of our greatest stress and suffering.

Hard-wired for connection

So why do we do it? Why do we keep pursuing relationships even though sometimes they make us miserable? It’s simple. We are hard-wired for connection. When a women gives birth, her brain secretes a hormone called oxytocin that allows her to establish an emotional bond with her baby. When the baby receives skin-on-skin contact from its mother, the same hormone is released in the baby’s brain and the baby’s brain starts forming neural networks about bonding, connection and love. When we hug or kiss a loved one, or establish a deep connection with a friend while chatting over coffee, our oxytocin levels increase. For this reason, oxytocin is often called “the love hormone.” In fact, the hormone also plays a huge role in pair bonding. Oxytocin is the hormone that underlies trust and can even be an antidote to depressive feelings. And we are all addicted to it. We can’t help it, because once we have experienced the effects of oxytocin, we want more. This explains how people become addicted to sex for example. If they perhaps did not experience the effects of oxytocin in other ways, because they were not held enough as children or did not bond with anyone, they still need the boost from the hormone, but don’t know how to obtain it in another way.

So being cut off from the source of our connection and bonding, can be hugely debilitating and can lead to severe depression and deep sadness. However, there is a huge difference between loneliness and being alone, because being alone is often a choice. Lena Dunham said on her Women Of The Hour podcast, “I personally love being alone … what I don’t like, is being lonely. For me, loneliness, that cottony separation from the world, hollow-stomached, soul disease is most acute when I’m surrounded by people who don’t or can’t see me“. And she is right, we can feel lonely, even when we are surrounded by people, because the wrong people – people who don’t know you or who don’t particularly care about your personal wellbeing – can actually make you feel isolated and alone. It is only when we spend time with those that genuinely know and love us, that we actually feel connection, and experience the burst of the oxytocin hormone, because we then feel we belong and we are not alone.

Discovering the upside of loneliness

However, we have all experienced being alone and we all know that sometimes, being alone, can be beneficial; that is, if we can face our own demons. Spending time alone can force us to do some introspection, to discover the benefits of meditation or help us be more productive.

When you immigrate to another country, you actually volunteer to be alone and it can be hard sometimes, because being alone for too long, can lead to despair and loneliness. So how do you reap the benefits of being alone without falling into the pit of despair that is loneliness? That is what I have been trying to figure out since we moved to Canada. And I haven’t mastered it yet. I still find myself falling into deep pits of despair and loneliness and crying for hours on end about loved one’s back home. And even though we chat and maintain regular “contact” thanks to technology, it is not the type of contact I crave. Hugs and kisses are impossible, so my oxytocin receptors are not firing. Looking into someone’s eyes, holding their hand, talking face to face, sharing a meal or a cup of cofee… none of these things are possible and you have to make due with cyber coffee chats when the massive time difference allows for a sliver of time to catch up with what’s going on in their lives.

So, typical of my Ennea 6, Wing 5 nature, I research and I try to find answers and I try to make sens of it. And I read article upon article about loneliness and the benefits of loneliness and/or of being alone and none of it resonates. Until I find two articles: Kimberly Gillan’s “The Surprising Upside Of Loneliness In A New City” where she recounts how it felt to move to another city, where she and her husband did not know anyone, and how they desperately tried to slot into the new environment they found themselves in by visiting locals bars, hoping to make some friends. She says: “I now wish I’d been more mindful of the positives of quiet time and spent less time lamenting my lack of friends in that lonely year. There’s a lot to be said for a blank calendar that can be filled with anything you damn well like. You learn to back yourself in a way I don’t think would be possible if you stay in your comfort zone. So if you’re new to a city, can I suggest you utilise your loneliness to learn a new skill, soak up your surroundings or go out on a limb? You’ll quite possibly have the best experiences of your life.”

Ok Kimberly, quiet time, you say. I used to spend a lot of quiet time by myself. I am used to working from home and have no problem staying busy and being productive when I am alone. However, with a toddler in the house, it is now almost impossible to find quiet alone time. So I upend my schedule. I wake up at 04:00 or 05:00 and try to think, write and work when baby is sleeping and I end up working until the early hours of the morning after baby has gone to bed. This definitely increases my productivity, but it isolates me even more, because now I spend less time talking to my husband – the ONLY person I have here that I can connect with – and I am also a zombie during the day when I have to give my little girl my undivided attention. So what to do?

As for the blank calendar, that means nothing when you are still in limbo, trying to find a permanent place to live, trying to establish some sort of routine and still figuring out what your life is going to look like now that you cannot visit family and friends as often as you used to. I must admit the idea is not exciting to me at all. I loved spending time with loved ones simply because they were a welcome break from my busy life. I spend a lot of my time in my head and I work long hours, so taking time out to visit with friends and family was like taking a vacation.

And then there is Karan Bajaj with his beautifully written inspirational piece entitled “The Incredible Upside of Loneliness” where he discusses the rules of the ancient Yogis and proposes that loneliness could be a journey of self-discovery. He explains that you can choose loneliness by moving somewhere where you don’t know anyone and then not holding on to anything and not buying a house. Almost adopt a nomadic lifestyle then. To my adventurous 7 wing this of course sounds promising. It could be a little experiment in self-reinvention. But then he gets to the juicy bit… how you can use loneliness to change the world… and of course as a Ennea 6 with a strong desire to impact the world, I am hooked.

Bajaj suggets that loneliness can help you tap into your creativity. He says: “You tap into a reservoir of completeness when you create, touching the universal and forget your limited self. Use your loneliness as a catalyst to creation–a book, an organization, a idea, a new business process– whatever your medium and feel silent and complete once again“. And of course I had discovered this to be true even before I stumbled upon Bajaj and his writings, because I suddenly had this urge to write. I find my writers block that had developed after my arduous PhD journey had suddenly lifted and I felt I not only wanted, but needed to write. So finally, I can see my way to writing a book after years of wanting and intending to write one, but never actually sitting down and typing the first page.

Bajaj also recommends meditating in times of loneliness. In my yoga practice, I had discovered the wonder of meditation. But I have battled to get back to that quiet space for more than a year now… It is as if it is simply inaccessible right now with worries and concerns wreaking havoc in my internal space. Bajaj insists though: “Don’t fight your loneliness. Instead, use it as a catalyst to internalize that everything is a passing mind state. The sadness of loneliness, the warm glow you feel in companionship, pleasure, pain, nothing lasts. Everything is in flux. Don’t make my mistake. Fast-forward your journey by learning how to meditate or consider this incredible, accessible experience“.

So, I have decided to immerse myself in my loneliness and embrace it as a time for contemplation and self-discovery, because Bajaj also says that at some point your journey into self-discovery, meditation and contemplation will end and you will rejoin your loved ones, but with wisdom and insights to share and with the gift of your learnings from your journeys.

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The homesickness stuckness loop

It is difficult to explain to people who have not experienced it first-hand, how debilitating home-sickness can be. That gut-wrenching, soul-twisting, downward-spiralling, deep pit of darkness you transcend into that disarms you at the weirdest times of the day. During the times when you feel homesick, you get stuck in this loop of past memories that are so overwhelming that you cannot even take in what is happening around you in the present. You don’t notice the elements in your new environment that could be elements of awe, excitement and inspiration, because your despair is so deep and overwhelming that it removes you from the space you’re in and allows you to travel thousands of miles and many oceans in an instant. In your mind’s eye you can see, smell, taste and touch home… And you imagine that the memories of home will always be better than anything that can happen in the present.

Why does homesickness have this effect? It is simple, we are creatures of habit and anything that is familiar seems safe and better than anything that is new or different or unfamiliar. When you move to a new country, you are informed that you are “starting a new life“. You, and everyone else of course, anticipate that your “new life” is going to be better than the one you are living now. But are you starting a new life, or simply continuing your life on a different path?

Martin Seligman* believes a more apt name for our species would be Homo Prospectus, because we thrive by considering our prospects. Anticipating the future, both consciously and unconsciously, is a central function of our brains. This way of looking at our psychological make-up, is of course very different to how psychologists and neuroscientists have looked at us up to now. For the past century most researchers have assumed that we’re prisoners of the past and the present. But it is becoming clear that the mind is mainly drawn to the future, not driven by the past. Seligman explains that learning does not occur through the storage of static memories, but rather through the continual imagining of future possibilities.

When a hugely upsetting emotional event – like moving to the other side of the world – happens, what sets us into a downward spiral of depression, is not so much the weirdness and unfamiliarity of our present circumstances, but rather the expectation that this uncomfortable situation might not improve and that we could potentially be “stuck” in this unpleasantness indefinitely. As a consequence we also start re-framing our memories of past events and convince ourselves that these were in fact much better than they might actually have been.

Here is why depression and homesickness can make matters worse. Seligman explains that the depression and anxiety inhibit our ability to be optimistic about the future. Studies have shown depressed people have a tendency to imagine fewer positive scenarios while overestimating future risks. As an Ennea 6, I tend to think strategically and anticipate events in advance, but I also tend to worst-case-scenario things. My propensity to fall into a pit of anxiety and depression is thus often stronger than it is for most other people. Any disruption in routine that breaks connections that I have meticulously and carefully built, pushes me into the claws of depression.

I agree with Seligman that memories of past traumas are not what cause anxiety.  From my own personal experience I can say that I have emerged stronger from difficult events in my life. I think that the main reason why people who have gone through trauma tend to imagine fewer positive scenarios and overestimate what could go wrong, is because they have not consciously become aware of the meta skills they have acquired that enabled them to survive their past traumas in the first place. We often survive difficult situations without ever really consciously understanding our own psychologies and HOW we did it.

To understand the unconscious mental processes taking place when we are in difficult situations requires the mental and emotional ability to “step back” from the situation and observe what is happening to us mentally and emotionally. What are we thinking and why? What are we feeling and why? This is not an easy task, because it requires quietening the mind and accessing the observer and trusting your instincts about what you are experiencing (something that is very difficult for a Ennea 6 to to).

When homesickness becomes debilitating, it is sometimes difficult to remember our own resilience and adaptability. Life presents us with these times of discomfort to stretch us and help us grow. So when it becomes difficult to focus on anything else but home, then make contact with someone at home. Vent and cry and then find something new and different but exciting or fun to do in your new environment to remind yourself why you are on this journey in the first place. Pretty soon, this unfamiliar place becomes a little less strange and a little more familiar. Whether it will ever be home, is another matter. We shall have to wait and see.

*You can read about Martin Seligman’s latest research here.