Hiraeth
'Where are you from?' is one of the questions new students ask each other at the beginning of the academic year (along with 'what A levels did you do?' 'what course are you on?' and 'what music do you like?') For me it's a complex question. I've lived in so many different places that I lose count if I try to remember them all. I once calculated that I've moved house, on average, every 18 months since I went to college at the age of 18. I've left part of myself in almost all of the places I've lived or worked in, and all of them have left marks (good or bad) on me.
As a curate I worked in a part of Leicester which was enormously varied, socially, ethnically and religiously. There were people who had moved literally halfway across the world to come and live in Leicester, living alongside people who had spent their whole lives in the same street- and who, in some cases, had been born in the same house their parents were born in. Both might be able to give the same answer to the question 'Where are you from?' , but it would have very different meanings.
A helpful concept for me in trying to understand where I belong is the Welsh word 'hiraeth'. It doesn't have a tidy English translation, but it's something to do with homesickness, longing to belong to a place or community or people. Hiraeth is about that experience I've had of leaving part of myself everywhere l' ve been, and needing to connect with something that tells me who I really am. It's not a coincidence that only a Welsh word will do for this feeling. I've never lived in Wales, and my genetic make-up is only part Welsh, but when Wales are playing I know exactly who my community are!
For seven years I was a member of an Anglican Franciscan religious order, living under a vow of poverty, chastity and obedience. Part of that vow was being available to move anywhere at any time, to do the work which was asked of me in a particular place. It was freeing, not to put down roots, to be ready to go wherever God might want me to go- but it's not always easy to be rootless. Where are you from? is a question I can't answer. Where do you belong? Wherever I can be myself.
As a curate I worked in a part of Leicester which was enormously varied, socially, ethnically and religiously. There were people who had moved literally halfway across the world to come and live in Leicester, living alongside people who had spent their whole lives in the same street- and who, in some cases, had been born in the same house their parents were born in. Both might be able to give the same answer to the question 'Where are you from?' , but it would have very different meanings.
A helpful concept for me in trying to understand where I belong is the Welsh word 'hiraeth'. It doesn't have a tidy English translation, but it's something to do with homesickness, longing to belong to a place or community or people. Hiraeth is about that experience I've had of leaving part of myself everywhere l' ve been, and needing to connect with something that tells me who I really am. It's not a coincidence that only a Welsh word will do for this feeling. I've never lived in Wales, and my genetic make-up is only part Welsh, but when Wales are playing I know exactly who my community are!
For seven years I was a member of an Anglican Franciscan religious order, living under a vow of poverty, chastity and obedience. Part of that vow was being available to move anywhere at any time, to do the work which was asked of me in a particular place. It was freeing, not to put down roots, to be ready to go wherever God might want me to go- but it's not always easy to be rootless. Where are you from? is a question I can't answer. Where do you belong? Wherever I can be myself.