Hiraeth.
Nostalgia and finding your place in the world.
The word “Hiraeth” (Welsh) doesn’t have a distinct English counterpart.
It relates to a feeling of nostalgia, a longing for home, or a physical location/moment in time that cannot be revisited. I stumbled upon a meditation centred on this concept this morning and needing a break, went for a walk, found a quiet spot away from the noise of the office and sat. Ruminating on the word and honing in on my breath, my mind wandered (as it inevitably does) and I found myself discomforted: I could not identify a time or place in my own life for which I feel a true sense of hiraeth.
Formed from "hir", meaning long, and "aeth" meaning sorrow or grief, hiraeth’s literal translation offers some insight but fails to convey the term’s complex nuance. "Hiraeth is one of these terms that’s impossible to translate because it has so many cultural overtones," said Sioned Davies, professor emeritus and previous chair of the School of Welsh at Cardiff University.
-Crossley-Baxter, ”The untranslatable word that comes from Wales”, BBC News, (2021)
My life has been, in an overarching sense, pleasant and successful, while subtly void of a sense of satisfaction or adventure. There are happy memories, yes, but when I look back and feel a warmth about a period of time it has less to do with the energy that era held and more about a sense of accomplishment which marked some tangible progression toward a goal or passion project.
Creative endeavours, like musical performances or moments of clarity that arose from reading, writing, or academic pursuits come to mind.
Even more-so though, there is travel.
Travel reflects an ascent from a past where I often felt out of control or at the whims others - this need to earn approval or be a specific type of individual has left me with an impulse to run; not in a negative sense, away from things, but toward new experiences and geographical settings. To bathe in a novel scene, new tastes, and new languages, evokes an exhilarating sense of possibility where no one determines my potential or pursuit but me.
Escaping the rote routine only ever expands our idea of what living means.
Travelling carries so much weight because I have never lived anywhere I can honestly call “home”. As a transient child, I continued that lifestyle into adulthood until I arrived in my current location around a decade ago, where cirumstances hold me for now. I can say, “this place is home”, but there is no heart behind it, no desire to become engrained in the local culture or establish roots.
I am still searching for my place.
Because of this, I feel a sort of hiraeth for places I have never been. There is a despondency that accompanies being in my late-30s and still feeling adrift. As I sat this morning on that awkward, rigid bench, sweating under the heat of the late-morning sun, uncomfortably trying to focus on the meditation I set out to complete, I wondered where home might be.
There is still satisfaction to be felt in the here and now, but even when I am at peace there is a special sort of discontent in my veins. I have always been able to embrace it because it keeps me moving, rejuvenates my sense of optimism, and allows me to push off any notion of settling. Each day is a new beginning where I am free to learn a little bit more: about the world and myself - what I want in a home. Plans are being made, groundwork is being laid.
Lately, I have had these out of body moments where I look down at my hands or focus on an object and have a very vivid realisation that this is life. What I am feeling, seeing, hearing, and experiencing is inescapable because it is all there is: the present moment. Me. This sensation is profound and always invokes a quiet spirit of happy urgency - I am only a passing shadow.
In a humble and hopeful way, I don’t feel I’ve lived my best years yet. It’s something I’m most certain of in a world comprised of so much insecurity and ambiguity. The only constant I can trace back to my youth is that desire to explore - to find home. Curiosity and persistence will prove wise.
Maybe, it’s even closer than I think.