Nineteen years gone. Sixty-six countries visited on six continents. Nine countries, on three continents, have been home for a while. Two passports, but I feel like a citizen of nowhere, not even of the world. The nomadic life is often romanticized, but the truth is that it’s not for the faint of heart, especially if you avoid the expat cocoon. The isolation takes its toll, even on the most introverted. Nineteen years gone. But here I am again, next to this beloved river. Michigan has always been a steady hand to catch me when I fall.
January. The Upper Peninsula beckons. A short road trip brings me to the shores of Lake Superior. Even the mighty fall silent sometimes. Frozen into submission. I may have grown up downstate, but in my heart northern Michigan is my homeland.
Return is only possible because I’m in this wilderness. So much noise, elsewhere. Communication with so many people at once is unnerving. I can no longer hide behind the language barrier. Not only was I physically away from this culture for so long, but there was also a deliberate media/pop culture blackout. I have only vague ideas of what I’m supposed to be enraged about and no idea who I’m expected to emulate. A young man who struck up a conversation with me before my flight from Paris found it hilarious that I didn’t know that there are new late night talk show hosts. I smiled. It is not ignorance, but strategic apathy. Ignorance is being unaware. I’m conscious of the poison that I refuse to consume.
The immensity of the reconstruction unfurls. The person I left behind no longer exists. What did my name used to be? It sounds so strange in my voice. Credit must be re-established. Bad credit is better than none, it seems. My driver’s license has been expired for so long that I must retake the written and road tests. It’s intimidating, being at the helm of a vehicle again after more than a decade.
How will I survive in a land where a person’s value is based on job title, income, possessions, busyness, offspring? Personal experience is worthless. No one is interested in stories of faraway lands. Or different observations of this one. When the despair wells up, I head into the woods. Conjure up the vast internal wealth that I brought back with me. Wrap my arms around myself and take deep breaths. I’m doing the right thing. I’m doing the right thing. Sometimes I wish I could just take the easy way.
There were other options. I could have easily continued to move from place to place. Siberia. Peru. Italy. Opportunities beckoned. But it’s time to let go of the persona that I have so meticulously constructed. The perpetual nomad. A lifestyle is only freedom until you become unable to let it go. So many need to conquer the aversion to solitude. I know how to be alone. It’s time to learn how to be with others.
But there is another reason that I’m supposed to be here. It looms on the horizon, an obscure and benevolent orb. Slowly taking shape. I patiently await its revelation.
February. The falling snow and silence of the woods around my family’s property. We have both changed. Dead wood has fallen and decomposed. The way is clear through regions that once seemed so impenetrable and sinister. The bends in the river are deeper. Its voice is still so recognizable. Welcome back, dear one. You have been missed.
I walk alongside the intense flow, my boots sinking deep into the soft powder. Scenes resurface. Chasing my cowgirl aunt through deep drifts. My little legs got stuck and I fell, knocking the wind out of me. I looked up at her for help. She stood there and snickered. The look on her face said, “C’mon, get up and dust yourself off. Falling down is part of the fun.” This tough love philosophy has followed me through life. Never ask for help. Ever. Asking for help is for weak people. But pride can be another, more devious form of weakness.
Books and articles have been written about reverse culture shock. The identity crisis. The alienation and inability to fit back in. Those who return often end up fleeing again. Forever exiled into a realm of ambiguity. I find this state of consciousness intriguing rather than distressing. The thrill of disorientation and shattered perceptions. Besides, I never fit in to begin with.
March is usually the worst. The suffocating gloom and inertia. But the veil of winter lifts, revealing the slumbering forest. Creatures reawaken. The snow recedes. So very slowly. It’s been unusually cold this winter. Color and smell returns. Naked forest under blue sky. The comforting aroma of cedar.
In recent years, my family has converged on this stretch of river. As if we’ve been summoned. Property becomes available at just the right time. My little brother Billy now owns the cottage that Grandpa built. Once again, we wander this wilderness, picking up where we left off so many years ago. How is it that I’m so much younger now than I was way back when? Billy shows me a beaver den. I point out tracks that may be from the lone wolf that was spotted in these parts. The river’s voice swells, drunk on snow melt and sunshine. I don’t mention the sparkle that I now carry within. Shining the way through an undiscovered territory. Home.
very beautiful!
Beautiful words and pictures, Julie. Some of us greatly value your personal experience, stories of faraway lands, and different observations of the current land :-). I hope you keep that outsiders perspective, don’t be assimilated! Knowing you through your writings and social media posts, I can’t imagine that you would, so I’m not worried. Enjoy your family and the land you are rooted to, I look forward to reading more about your home.
Thank you so much, Cam. I don’t think it’s possible for me to be assimilated. I just need to learn how to fade into the background so I don’t get run out by an angry mob with pitchforks. 😁
Happy April Fool’s Day, Julie. You have brightened my day with your thoughts and words. My own memories of Michigan in the winter aren’t especially pleasant. Because of the Great Lakes, you’ve got cloudy skies from October until March. But, now it’s April. Celebrate!!!! I know you will, with your spirit and your unique vision. I’m sure Tahquamenon Falls are beckoning you. They are beautiful at this time of year. When I lived in Ontonagon (back in the famous winter of 1978), when Lake Superior froze and the natives worried about the wolves coming over from Presque Isle, my boss was confident that “our wolves are tougher than their wolves”. We all return home. And then, we’re gone again. Isn’t life strange and remarkable?
Hi Chuck. I thought no place could ever outgloom Michigan in the winter…until I lived through winter in Eastern Europe. It’s been unusually sunny this March, but that also means cold. I actually visited Tahquamenon Falls when I drove up to see Superior in January. Just magnificent. We all return home and then we’re gone again. Thank you for sharing your spirit, my friend.
I look forward to hearing how you fare as the year progresses.
Thanks, Peggy. Things are good now, but I feel that even better things are just ahead.
Welcome back, I think. 🤔
No one can ever call me a coward. 😁
I can only imagine these emotions you’re experiencing as you enter this next phase of your journey, the return home. I guess home isn’t the same as it was, but neither are you. I think you’ll do fine here – your life’s experiences will stand you in good stead.
Lovely photos, by the way.
Thank you 😊 It was pretty turbulent at first, but I mellowed right out once I settled into my woods.
There are people in this land who don’t believe a person’s value is based on external factors or that personal experience is worthless. You can find people who will beg to hear stories of faraway lands or want to exchange different observations of this one. Some of us right here in the middle of it have even chosen strategic apathy of our own! You have to find your footing and your tribe again. I think for me it would be exponentially harder to re-enter this strange former land in my hometown, but I admire your courage to try. And I hope the orb grows brighter and clearer every day.
Yes there are those who see through the superficial. Begging to hear stories, however. Not so sure about that, but it’s not so important. No one better expect me to be fascinated by ruminations on their trip to the doctor or the bundt cake pans they got on sale at Target. That’s all I’m saying. I realized, long ago, that some of us don’t have a tribe. And that’s okay. My idiosyncratic family fulfills the need for belonging.
I couldn’t return to my actual hometown. No way. My family has moved/is moving up to the place where we spent our vacations. The happiest times. We all live on the same little road. It’s really such a special area.
Hi Julie,
Greetings from Uzbekistan.
Well, you really don’t shy away from a challenge! I thought Anjou was going to be home for a while, but here are now the great lakes. I don’t think I’d be able to return to my hometown, even though never say never, every time I visit I’m swept by a torrent of nostalgia for a time I never expected I could be nostalgic for!
I’m sure you’ll be able to find your spot there, even without knowing that a chubby, annoying Englishman has now become the host of the Late (or Late Late? Or Late3?) Night Show. In fact I think that it’d be a major advantage point. That, and all you know.
All the best
Fabrizio
My blog is read in so many exotic locations thanks to you, Fabrizio. Hope you’re having a fabulous trip.
When I was contemplating my next move in life, I asked myself where’s the most bizarre place to live. America, not North Korea, was the first place to pop into my mind. There ya go. Anjou was so wonderful, but being self-employed in France is a bureaucratic and financial nightmare. I’m not actually in my hometown now. No bloody way I’d move back there. I’m in the place where we spent all vacations. Thanks to technology, one can now live in isolated places such as this. The nostalgia here is overwhelming at times. I’m looking forward to reacquainting myself with the area.
I imagine there are many different Late Shows these days with forgettable hosts. Thank god I don’t have a television.
A remarkable journey, I wish you all the best in this new phase of your life. It is good that you have somewhere to go back to, your ‘back pages’ – “Ah, but I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now”.
Thank you, Robin. My archives are my treasure chest. Who knows where this new road will lead. It just feels really good to be here.
A perfect piece on becoming a stranger within your own life ~ fascinating descriptions, and a certain feeling of camaraderie I share when you mention the ‘steady hand’ your home has always held out regardless of how many decades you were elsewhere. Now, you share an adventure of your return and give glimpses it may be the greatest adventure yet.
There is something addictive about the nomadic life and it is often romanticized. Finding yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the unknown becomes a bit like a drug, the thrill of discovery never gets old. The occasional return home allows me to return to my normal breathing before setting off again to find new stories. But home is…home. The call of home strengthens over time, and I love seeing this in your writing.
I’m sure I’d suffer an identity crisis like no other 🙂 Beautiful writing, and look forward to reading more. Cheers, and welcome to a new adventure.
Yes, the nomadic life is very addictive, and, like all addictions, there’s a search for evermore intense highs. I never ever thought I’d feel like this, but it did get a little old. Discovering home is thrilling. Becoming reacquainted with this place without the distortion of culture is mesmerizing. It’s like I’ve been reincarnated as myself. Anyway. The identity crisis is said to be very distressing, but I think you’d handle it just fine. If that is your wish. It really is the greatest adventure of all. Warmest wishes.
It is a bit strange, as this year is the first time I am thinking… “hmmm, wouldn’t it be nice to explore home and everything around it I know nothing about.” I can see it happen, which is a first and a bit exciting as well. Will likely be out here for another year, but will be pushing for more sojourns back home 🙂 Wishing you greater discoveries and greater happiness.
That’s how it starts, with a thought out of the blue. Like, “where the hell did that come from?” Maybe you are being called back. Faraway lands are intriguing, often overshadowing the treasures in our own back yard. I can only imagine the wonders that await your return. Hope it works out. I know how it is and can’t help but feel excited for you.
I do believe this. 25 years ago I was talking with a friend (a Daoist philosopher) about where I should be, Beijing or back home. He then asked me a question: “When I am in China, do I miss the USA?” I said “Yes.” Then he asked, “When I am in the USA, do I miss China.” I said, “Yes.” Then he said, “When the answer to one of those questions changes, you know where you should be…” 🙂
Brilliant. Leave it to the Daoists to find such a simple solution.
Hello Julie,
What a wonderful post with beautiful images. I think most of us who have experienced extended periods away from “home” can relate with your experiences. But you expressed in such a wonderful way. I hope Nature continues to encourage you on your new journey, and that you settle in — at your own pace.
All best wishes from Japan,
Takami 🙂
Thank you so much, Takami. The phenomenon of reverse culture shock is becoming widespread as more people take advantage of the freedom of working online and living as digital nomads. Maybe a whole new culture will arise out of it.
I like your ‘strategic apathy’ of the routine world. The mediocre mind accumulates material wealth and leads a run-of-the-mill life, whereas the wiser mind acquires experiences that can be carried forward to the next level of awareness.
Hi Raj – Honestly, the thought of accumulating material wealth makes me a little sick, but not because I feel morally superior to those who enjoy it. It just seems so boring. I have better things to do with my time. 🙂 I came up with “strategic apathy” in response to others questioning my “moral compass” because I am not interested in “staying informed”, but it can certainly apply to other aspects of mainstream culture, such as consumerism.
I have been ‘home’ for 18 years now; it’s still a mysterious place but not an uncomfortable one. I wish you well.Coming home may be the biggest boldest adventure of all. 🙂
Thank you, Amanda Anne. Of course, you know how it is. It really feels like the greatest adventure yet.
Finely wrought as ever, Julie. You make me wonder though why some of us seem always to be outsiders in some sense. Those woods look like a nurturing resource though. So all very best wishes and fair weather for the ongoing journey to a place called home.
Thank you, Tish. These woods are pure magic. I used to wonder about those of us who just can’t seem to fit in, too. We’re made to feel as if there’s something wrong with us. I think it comes down to personality type. I don’t usually like categorizing personalities, but I recently took an Enneagram test and it seems I’m a 4, what they call The Individualist. These people are the outsiders.
Ah, now that’s rather fascinating. Must look that test up. It’s interesting, though, how you hear many non-fitters-in saying they were convinced they were mixed up at birth at the hospital, and given to the wrong family. Makes one wonder.
I suppose there are folks who define their value and identity or those of others based a job, their stuff, their kids. But if you look beyond the material aspects those just represent experiences too, they’re just different than the ones you have. And a lot of folks are uncomfortable with different, especially if it comes from a place they’d likely be afraid to explore. Perhaps it’s not that people don’t value your experience, they’re just intimidated by it.
But once you spend some time with them, they’ll figure out you’re just a regular person just like everyone else, not so scary, and you can share experiences. Not unlike what you do with 14,497 other amazing people.
Kind of like the discovery of travel. Something you’re good at.
An interesting perspective, and one I agree with. I was more referring to what our culture has defined as valuable and not what individuals consider as valuable. When I was younger, I used to think that everyone needed to travel. But now I realize that people are not all the same. And I understand why people are intimidated. They have no frame of reference. That’s why I try to stay quiet about my life Out There. As you said, I can share my experiences with my readers😊
A bold move, seeking out how to live with others. I usually just run away after brief interludes of trying it. I still feel I learn from nature much more than I do from daily “news”. Your woodsy retreat looks like a fairy tale. I have not visited Michigan, but your part seems to have that mystical quality ideally suited for daydreams. Or perhaps you portray them so well in that way. Welcome home.
Thank you💗 I don’t know how successful I’ll be about the people thing, but it’s something I feel I have to do. It’s connected to the orb that I sense just up ahead. I don’t think I’ll ever love being around people, but I can learn how to not let it drain me so much.
Nature is the only teacher for me, anymore. Northern Michigan is a mystical place. So remote and wild. The imagination just soars.
Beautiful words and I hope you don’t suffer too much reverse shock of being back home.
Thank you. 💜
“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more”
George Gordon Byron
Homecoming is meeting ourselves at a different time. The task of integrating two timeframes is indeed extraordinary. Another wonderful post and most excellent discussion.
Thank you so much for sharing those words, both the poem and your thoughts. They really resonate for me today. 💚
Last year I returned after 31 years of absence, not to home, but to my country, curiously I have reflected, that, there is no such a thing as coming back home, too many things have changed, us, them, and sometimes even the landscape…
Home it’s just a distant memory in our heart.
Here a poem:
Life is a river that
Has no shore,
Man has no harbor,
The river slips by,
And we pass.
Great post as usual Julie! 🙂
Thank you. 😊The place we called home is a memory. But I have come to feel that our real home is within us, and I think that’s why I’m not experiencing the identity crisis that is supposed to come with reverse culture shock. Somehow home shifted from external to internal.
Even though your homeland has changed, I hope you had a delightful visit.
It’s been many years since I returned to the womb of Leicestershire in England’s Midlands. The last time was in 1995 for the funeral of my father. Though centre of the village hadn’t changed so much, the outskirts and beyond were an alien land. My mother touched my father’s waxen face as he lay in the coffin, withdrawing it swiftly. “It’s so cold”. For some reason she’d expected it to be as warm as it was while he lived. I was only there for her, my father having died years before in my mind. I wasn’t going to resurrect him, it would’ve been too painful. I won’t go back, none of the family live there anymore.
Hi Bryan – Thanks for sharing that powerful memory. Hometowns can be terribly painful places. After a while, there’s no reason to return. My hometown is actually downstate, but in my heart it was never “home”. I consider the area where I am now as my homeland. It was a place of joyful refuge when I was a child. My heart always sunk as we drove back downstate after holidays. I still feel a little sick every time I have to drive downstate. It’s funny how, even after forgiveness and moving on, the body still reacts.
Wishing you well in your transition, Julie. I am imagining re-entry and it seems a bit overwhelming. Love your photography, too.
Thank you so much, Jane. It was turbulent at first, but things are settling down.
PS. Congratulations on your Discover feature today! 😊
Thanks, Jane!
me gusta tu fotografia
A lovely write, Julie. And I never fit in either ! 😀
Thanks, Chris. You, not fit in? I don’t believe it. 😉 Be proud, son.
😀 Hahahaha — sure, I’m Joe Regular alright. 😀
Wow, what a blessing it is to visit so many beautiful places! Your pics are breath taking, I dream of traveling to sites across the country as well as around the world. You inspire me, thanks!
Thank you. I’ve been very fortunate.
Dearest Julie. Read your text on my phone earlier this week. Let it sit and simmer until I managed to squeeze in time to read it again. And… comment? Babble? Whatever.
So your wheel has made one final (?) circle. 19 years? A lifetime. Does that mean Angers is gone? I doubted you would settle down for a long time. Les vagabonds marchent toujours.
And then who are we? 19 years? I thought of my own personal wandering starting in Pakistan 60+ yeas ago. Do we ever belong anywhere? For a while I thought I was a white African. 🙂 No ma’am. Then a British-American, exported South of the mason-Dixon line. Then a Frenchman in Paris for 10 years, later a Latino in Mexico. Probably none and all of the above. And after almost 30 years here, my feet are itchy. But then can we ever really come… “home”? Are you still an “American”? Not really, right? I don’t think I will ever “go back” to France, more than on a few weeks/months basis. But it is a balance.
I may have asked you once what you were looking for in your globe-trotting. You probably don’t know. I just hope you find it. 🙂 And wish you peace mon amie.
A bientôt.
Thank you, Brian. You certainly know the nomadic life. You started so young. Who knows, maybe you’ll find yourself back in Pakistan one day. 🙂
Haha! Pakistan is not likely. But I do have a lot of interest for India. My grandmother was born there. That part of the family was in India fo two centuries… 🙂
Oh, and as ana afterthought. Your text when I read it first (We really need to sit down around a cup of coffee to talk for a while. 🙂 Wonder where that will be?) your text reminded me of an old Canadian song: La complainte du phoque en Alaska. Lemme see if I can find a link:
Bienvenue à la maison.
Merci pour la chanson. 🙂
Avec plaisir. That is such an old song. ’75… Bell bottom pants and flowery blouses. The Canadian accent can make it hard to understand but the lyrics are great.
(I forgot you are now on the same time-line. Or almost. Michigan is Central or Eastern time?)
Eastern
One hour ahead then. Almost time to watch the new late night shows? 😉
Be good Julie. Take care of yourself.
Nature is a most patient artist. All het works are beautiful!
Beautiful pics and imagery
Beautiful words and photos… a great inspirational article to start my day. Thanks for sharing!!
What an interesting life you have had…You have picked a cold and beautiful spot to settle into!
dwight
Thank you, Dwight. Northern Michigan is beautiful and COLD, for sure. Winter has decided to come back in April.
A lifestyle is only freedom until you become unable to let it go.
–Attachment is bondage, but if the whole wold becomes Lord Buddha what will become of this world?
I seriously doubt there’s a risk of everyone becoming Lord Buddha. Especially me. 🤣🤣🤣
Even if that happened, I’m sure the world would find a way to deal with it.
Beautifully written!!!
That’s awesome..
Yeah.. In fact.. I haven’t traveled to much..
But I know that one can discover themselves being at home…
Home sweet home.. 🙌
Thank you. 💗That’s right, it’s not necessary for everyone to travel to distant lands to discover themselves. We just need to follow our hearts.
Mindblowing…. Wish you all the best.
Thank you. 😊
Loved the strategic apathy bit! I choose this in regard to most of pop culture as well.
Thanks! Sometimes I catch a glimpse of pop culture, and it only reinforces my choice. 😀
Powerful imagery and fascinating read for someone like me who is always anxious to come home and finds it easier to disappear into the known. I hope you continue to write about what unfolds in the coming months.
Thank you. 🙂 Some people are travelers and some are homebodies. And sometimes we spontaneously change.
Yes! “No one is interested in stories of faraway lands. Or different observations of this one.” This is perfect. We felt similar when we returned from France to New Zealand. Now and then we have found a fellow traveller who “gets it”. Beautiful writing, I enjoyed it very much.
Thank you. 🙂 Former expats have a way of spotting each other. It’s like we’ve got more in common with foreign expats in our own country than our fellow citizens.
When people ask me why I live where I do, instead New York City or Los Angeles or Miami I have offered a long-winded explanation. I am considering making this post part of that explanation. Nice to meet you. – Jim Hess
Haha. Thanks! But will they have the patience to read it. 😉
I experienced some of this after being away for just one year. I can’t imagine what it must be like after 19!
Yeah, it’s pretty intense. But I expected it. I think of it as just another foreign country, but my family and friends just happen to live here. 😀
beautiful thought and beautiful photos
“It is not ignorance, but strategic apathy. Ignorance is being unaware. I’m conscious of the poison that I refuse to consume.”
Love this quote! Great blog, I really enjoyed the read.
Thank you. 🙂
I fell for the honesty in your post. “A lifestyle is only freedom until you become unable to let it go. ” That is so profound and deep. Welcome to the world of grounded freedom. It is not that bad if the journey within has started. May you discover that inner self which can help you find freedom no matter where you are. Following your journey right away.. 🙂
Deepa.
Thank you so very much, Deepa. The inner journey started long ago and it has mirrored the outer in extraordinary ways. It has just decided to switch methods. 🙂
Happy for you.
Beautiful pictures, beautiful words!
Life is a circle….one ends up at the starting point and in between how one assimilates, reasons is the learning process. It requires courage to step out of the comfort zone and you are one brave person.
Thank you so much, Indra. This is indeed the most courageous thing I’ve ever done. It’s often overwhelming, but there’s no question that it’s necessary for my continued growth. We are here to learn and it won’t happen if we stay in our comfort zone.
after Reading your story i was so amazed about your experiences. Knowing that people of today dont value enough the way of living in a far away land. I’m hoping to read more stories from you that could really inspire me.Not only me but also to those people who loves reading. i was really amazed by your thoughts and words.😊
Thank you. 🙂
omg this is well written!
Beautiful post. I too am from the U.P. I cherish the undisturbed nature and the beauty it provides.
Thank you. I’m actually in the very northern lower, just under the Bridge. Like a real Troll. 😉But I will be up in the UP as much as possible, as soon as the weather gets better. It’s such a wild, remote place. So many wonders to discover again.
I can relate in a lot of ways. My brother is living in the house my grandpa built on the river in east Tn. Where I have many fond memories of my childhood. Bless you , enjoy your post.
Thank you 🙂
Lots of food for thought, thanks.
Awesome post! I hope you find much comfort now that you are home!
Thank you 🙂