I often think about what has brought me to this point in my life, with all the conditions, the decisions, and opportunities taken, as well as missed. But I know I am incorrect with much of it, because not only does it count on me remembering, it doesn't account for me never knowing. There are so many influencing factors in our lives that we are never aware of, with a billion sliding doors that can nudge us or punch us in different directions.
One thing I realized today is that I have barely thought about the small town in Australia in which I grew up. So much of my formative life was spent there, but once I left, I left my thoughts about it there as well. While I don't know for sure, but it might be because while the last couple years were okay, I didn't have the greatest childhood there in so many ways. And when I left I was already fifteen, and had already been making life decisions for a few years already - given the not so great childhood.
This means that my attachment to my "home" town isn't as strong as it might be for some others, but I am quite sure that living there has impacted on me in ways that I still carry today. While there might have been a lot of damage, for the most part, I think I have been able to turn it relatively positive, and move on from it, but still understand the lessons I learned through the way I was treated. As a result, I treat people with respect, but I also don't give into nonsense, meaning that I feel that people should also learn to protect themselves to not be so reactive to the words and even actions of others.
But I was thinking, what would have happened to my life had I stayed in a town that I feel never really wanted me in it. I suspect I would have moved at some point anyway, but had I stayed, I wonder what kinds of jobs I would have had, or what kinds of friends, or if I would have started a family. Would I be like the few people that I used to see on Facebook from that home town, living their lives, having their children, with their children doing the same things, playing in the same sports teams as their parents were? Would I have become part of the community?
It is hard to imagine. Because I just don't see a life for me there. It is like when I try to picture it, there is just blankness, no matter how hard I try. No pathway through the forest.
Yet, that is where my roots started to grow, an even though the soil was acidic, they did their best to form me into some kind of person that could make it through this life. But, making it through and making it through well are two different things, and I often wonder if I am doing well enough to consider it good enough.
I am not.
I am not happy with where I am in life, even though compared to some it might appear that things are okay. In some way, it is like when I was at school getting abused as a little kid, but made sure to never let them see me cry. Of course, if I had cried it would have made things worse, but perhaps for one or two of those kids watching, they might have realized that they were making a person suffer by choice, and perhaps changed their ways, their support, or reflected back on it in their future.
I wonder if it would have been possible after that kind of childhood experience in the community to build a good life into adulthood, considering it would have been with the same people from childhood. I just don't see it happening, because regardless of whether I got over it or not, the community aspect will depend on the group, and if they don't change, it just creates more difficulty, more hurdles, more challenge, in an already challenging environment.
While a handy allegory, perhaps roots are not as important as we think they are to our lives. Perhaps what is more important is the trunk that moves away from them, broadens, grows branches, leaves, and feels the sunlight each day. Our roots might keep us grounded metaphorically, but what they could also be seen as is something we are getting away from, something that inspires us, supports us, to be more than our background. To be better.
I think that this is why I dislike the identity conversations so much, where people identify themselves based on arbitrary traits and states, like their skin color or nationality. They are useful at times, but when we start believing that these things are us, rather than influences upon us, we start to give up our ability to be something other, acting based on the stereotypes to which we have subscribed. Or, perhaps we just think we are acting accordingly, when we are not at all.
Believing I am something, doesn't make it so.
But more importantly, actions aren't determined by the arbitrary conditions of what we label ourselves.
Perhaps I would have had a good life in that home town, meeting new people I hadn't known before, or people I did know might have matured into something better than they were as children. Maybe I would have met someone fantastic and spent a good life with them, building a home, a family, and being part of the community.
I just can't imagine it though.
There are more branches of life to grow, more leaves to unfurl and more patches of light to feel.
Taraz
[ Gen1: Hive ]