The beginning of everything

In about three weeks, I'm going to fly back to the beginning of everything.  Or at least the beginning of my everything.  I'm going home.  

One of the things that I'm most interested in is the interaction between  home and psyche.  I've tried to understand this link in a number of different ways:  I've conducted impromptu interviews with friends, family and strangers on the meaning of home.  I've designed elaborate virtual reality simulations of homes that people can walk through while wearing a suite of instruments that measure their physiological state.  I've talked to architects, designers, stagers, planners about what home means, and I've sat on committees where we've turned questions about home upside-down and sideways.

Now it's time to get a little more personal.  I suppose, in a way, you'd call this a pilgrimage.  In fact, I'm certain that that's what it is.  But in my case, I'm not going to walk the Camino.  I'm going to retrace my own path across the planet from the day that I was born up to the present.  I'm going to re-visit every place that I've ever called home.

The journey begins in early April when I'll find myself on the doorstep of an ordinary looking house in Stevenage where, about a half-century ago, I was born.  I don't know yet whether I'll be able to go inside the house, but that's my fondest hope and the truest beginning I can think of for a project such as this one.

Right now, for me, the idea of standing in the room where I came into being seems too staggeringly huge to even contemplate.  I think there are many reasons for this, and my own special professional interest in home is only a part of the story.  I'm also an immigrant and, like all who migrate from their homeland to some other domain, the very idea of "home" becomes something great and unknowable -- a mythical land to which there is no easy return.  Until I began to think about this project, the very idea that I was "from" somewhere seemed academic and sterile.  Intellectually, I knew it was true, but emotionally, I felt nothing.  Will all of that change when I see the room where the me-egg hatched?

Comments

[Nicole Moen]

So thrilled for you Colin! Man, it was, what? 2 years ago when we were first talking about this? Pilgrimage indeed. Looking forward to your insights and stories along the way. Blessings to you!

[Colin]

Thanks Nicole. Yes! I remember our serendipitous meeting and our own mini-pilgrimage where this plan first began to take shape and make sense. It's taken me two years to feel as though I'm ready to do this and still, frankly, a little scared by what I might find out about myself and also completely at a loss as to how I will be able to pull off the whole journey. All good things.