September 6, 2011

Where I come from (which is, I assume, similar to where most people come from), reconciliation is a pretty ugly word.

Sure, our friends over at dictionary.com say that one of the meanings of the verb “to reconcile” is:

-to compose or settle.

I suppose this is the pretty basic definition: make something fit together that didn’t fit together before/normally wouldn’t be fitting together on its own.
Funsies.

But, there’s the “darker” side to reconciliation that those same friends also mention:

-to cause (a person) to accept or be resigned to something not desired.

Ahhh… That’s better!
I’ll give you ten guesses as to what I’ve been trying to reconcile! Bzzzt! Time’s up! (Shoulda thought quicker, eh?)

Yeah, obviously — I’m having some teensy-tiny issues reconciling my Finnish vacation with as-per-usual business in Germany. Interestingly enough, though, despite the fact I left yesterday practically kicking and screaming, it’s not all bad (though the dramatic side of me wants to admit that it’s all bad, sad, depressing).

You see, I think I’ve discovered something — one of the draws I feel toward Finland is that I automatically feel comfortable there, and I’ve never had to struggle to feel that way.
Enter Germany in contrast.

When we circled in for approach in Frankfurt yesterday, I couldn’t help but think, “Ahhh, home,” despite that kicking/screaming voice inside of me persisting with, “No, no, no!! Not home!! You are unhappy to come back here!”

But I realized something — despite my mother raising my sister and me in the German way (well, about as German you can get in Canada, at least), loving Germany was kind of like learning to love coffee or wine; it’s an acquired taste. Now that I love it (like coffee and wine), I can’t imagine life without it. But it was a real struggle.

A real struggle.

Ah, but the epiphany of September 5, 2011 seems to be the fact that I started working long and hard at making life in Germany work before I even landed four years ago. And I’m proud of the blood, sweat and tears, and even if feeling comfortable here didn’t come as easily as it does in Finland, Germany is my home.

Okay. Introduction to my point complete (ha!).

This morning, though, kicking-and-screaming Ellie woke back up with a vengence. I mean, it’s nice to be home. I like my flat, I like snuggling with Maxie… I like all of it.

But, you know… I felt a little disappointed with my morning routine of: get dressed while Maxie gets impatient, get the coffee ready as Maxie gets even more impatient, feed Maxie, take him out to do his thang, and then come back in for a cup of coffee and updates on the interwebbies.

It kind of feels like getting back on a bike that you’ve been off for a couple years (even if it’s only been a couple of weeks). It felt like I was gone a lot longer than that, and this adjustment — going back instantly to the way everything was before I left — seems… weird and foreign to me.
Because this last trip to Finland gave me more food for thought than it normally does (that’s saying something), and I’m really… yes. Struggling. Like that guy from DiP: “I’m struggling. I. Am. Fucking. Struggling.”

Because:

Rational Ellie: “Ahh.. It’s so nice to be home in your flat with Maxie and everything.”
Kick/Scream Ellie: “The coffee tastes better in Finland.”
Rational Ellie: “It’s nice to be in my own four walls again.”
Kick/Scream Ellie: “Nobody is going to be excited to come home to see you after class.”

And so on. Mostly with the more serious stuff I wouldn’t post on the interwebbies. Except the coffee. That’s a disaster all by itself.

So? My new task? Reconcile what I now know about myself from my trip with the daily life I have built up here. Sure, it’ll be messy. But isn’t that the whole essence of the term reconciliation and the reason why people cringe just at the very thought of the word? Fitting things together that don’t go together?