We have some new neighbors. They've been here for a month or so and they've triggered off a whole series of internal machinations on my part.
They are of the Romany community, better known as "Gypsies". They are very interesting people and I've enjoyed getting to know something about them. The first thing they did when moving into the apartment is to make it their own. The decorations, the color, the beautiful fabrics. It's really quite lovely and they seem like joyful people.
I sat down this past weekend and read a history of the Roma people. God knows they've experienced a lot of persecution throughout the world. I'm sure there are some, unlike my neighbors, who have gotten caught up in that mindset of victimization. I don't sense any of that with these folks.
Nor do I sense a faux positivity and cheeriness that comes from never having really dealt with hardship. My neighbor said to me the other day, "I move depending on prayer. I go where I'm needed." And he does. He prays, makes a decision and moves.
He doesn't worry about where he will find housing or where he'll find work. (Whether or not they are Travelers is unknown to me at this point for certain.. and isn't relevant to this anyway.) His nomad spirit is firmly intact and he and his family up and move without plotting and planning all the contingencies and "what ifs" that can keep us frozen in time and space. They pack up their decorations and their clothes and hit the road.
Being frozen is what I'd allowed to happen in my own life. We can live our lives in fear without even realizing it. I was born with itchy feet, with wanderlust. When I was younger, I moved on a whim and can't honestly say I've suffered for it. Somehow things worked out and I would either stay or move on, depending on how many doors were open and how many are closed.
I miss that part of me. I miss the part that didn't stay frozen out of fear of consequences. Beyond a sensible caution, I'd like to let go of that and experience more adventure and newness in my life. Sometimes getting older can make us stodgy and scared. While I haven't been consciously aware of it, the Roma Next Door have awakened that part of me and have caused me to see it in glaring detail.
Now I'm consciously choosing to be awake to the possibilities and to not stay stuck because the devil that's known is better than the one that's unknown. That's not really living. It's existing. I'm thankful for my new neighbors who, even though they don't know it, have re-awakened a bit of the Gypsy soul in this gadje body.
How about you? Do you have an internal nomad, begging to come out?
~*
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Wellness Wednesday: Reconnecting
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10 comments:
Oh, yes. This gadje has moved a lot and finds herself surprised that she has been in the same place for nearly six years.
I think your neighbors are not there by accident, but to remind you of your true self which needs to be honored. One of the great beauties of life for me is learning from those who are different from myself, which is why I nearly always welcome strangers at my door. I know that with each one comes a new viewpoint which enriches my own existence.
I never stay in one place very long. A few years here, a few years there, always looking for the next opportunity.
I have tried to become more 'settled' as my grandchildren have arrived but I have to admit I weigh the pros and cons constantly looked for a way out of the commitment. It is an ugly battle.
wow. what fascinating neighbors. i hope to hear more about them.
It was harder for to move when I was young. Then, at the age of 30, we moved to Australia which was a great experience and my closest friends said that I have matured with it. Ever since we came back, I feel that "home" is not a place but within myself and I think that I could live in many places and it wouldn't matter.
We moved every 2-3 years when I was growing up and also rtaveled and I have a serious wanderlust. But children has chnaged that and I settle for traelling when I can. Who knows ehen they go off to college, though?
When my husband and I applied for our first mortgage, I had to list everywhere I'd lived for the previous 7 years. It was 10 locations. Yeah, I definitely had wanderlust. I'm wondering what will happen in our time post-raising our son. We always talked about doing Peace Corps for our retirement years, but as you say, one grows stodgy. Comforts and place have taken on disproportionate importance. Btw... one of my favorite books of all time is called Bury Me Standing by Isabel Fonseca - it's a cultural anthropology study of the Roma and it's beautifully written.
I'm not supposed to say this, but if I never leave my city ever again, it would be fine with me.
Moves can be good. I'm really glad we made our still fairly recent one. But we must also remember that "wherever you go, there you are."
No, I'm not a nomad at all. The last three places I've lived have been for 14 years, 5 years, and 9 years. And before that I lived in the home my family has inhabited since 1964. (One brother is still there.)
I think some personalities just tend to lean one way or the other.
I admire people who can give vent to their gypsy soul. I have the soul to want to be on the move, but often do not have the courage. Courage is the essence of it all. Though provoking blog entry, but all of yours are.
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