On being … home

By Ingrid Sapona

Funny, the memories we store growing up. Funnier still, the way they come back to us …

Today’s the 30^th anniversary of my “landing” in Canada. Odd term, I know. Those old enough to remember the first lunar landing will understand my sister’s tease at the time: “‘the Ingrid has landed’ – it sounds like ‘the Eagle has landed’,” she joked. Anyway, Feb. 28, 1989 was the day I got Landed Immigrant status, which meant I could legally live in Canada and work without restriction.

Being a landed immigrant was also a necessary first step in the process of my becoming a Canadian citizen. In 2004 I wrote an On being … about the 10^th anniversary of becoming a citizen. That column was about what citizenship means to me. I talked about the fact that for most people in the western world, citizenship is a birthright that they often don’t think a lot about.

Today’s column, however, is about how – even though I’ve retained my U.S. citizenship – I can’t really see myself returning to live in the U.S. 

This is where my father comes into the picture…

Dad was born in the U.S. but his family returned to Greece when he was two years old. Though he didn’t speak English and didn’t have a job lined up, toward the end of WWII he hopped a ship to the U.S. Other than stints when he was stationed overseas while in the U.S. army, he spent the rest of his life in the U.S. Indeed, he didn’t return to visit Greece until Mom, Dad, and I went in 1975.

Growing up, I remember the odd occasion when someone would ask Dad if he ever thinks about moving back to Greece. I was always surprise by the speed with which he said “no”. Inevitably, he would then be asked why not. I often got the sense people asking expected some sort of stock answer. I imagine they thought he’d say something about there being more opportunities in the U.S. – you know, that old saw about the streets being paved in gold. But, Dad didn’t have a pat answer. Instead, he made vague references to things changing but he never really elaborated.

On our trip in 1975, I wondered whether visiting the old country might stir any dormant thoughts about returning to live there. While there, I couldn’t help but notice his face light up when a relative served him a particular food he loved during his childhood. Or his smile when he reminisced with an old aunt about his boyhood antics while he visited the family farm. Interestingly, though he was delighted to be there and he clearly still fit in, he was nostalgic but not in any way regretful.  

After that trip, he was better able to explain why he didn’t see himself ever moving back. He seemed to have gained clarity and perspective. I think the trip really drove home to him the social and business differences between the countries. Thereafter, when asked, he’d say that going back would require adjustments to things way beyond language and climate.

So, on today’s anniversary of my immigration to Canada, I think I understand how Dad felt about not really being able to return “home”. Over the 30 years, the differences between the nature of Canadians and Americans have become very clear to me. Though we speak the same language and have prospered thanks to many of the same bountiful resources, there are significant differences that can be traced as far back as the documents each country is built on.

The U.S.’s founding principle is that individuals are entitled to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”. In contrast, the founding principle enshrined in Canada’s Constitution Act of 1867 is that Parliament has the power to make laws for “the peace, order, and good government of Canada”.

The stark contrast between the U.S. focus on the rights of the individual versus Canada’s emphasis on the rights of the collective seems to have gotten sharper over the years that I’ve lived here. The whole idea of Trump’s wall – whether it comes to pass as an actual physical barrier or not – is symbolic of the direction the U.S. is going. I see the U.S.’s increasing isolationism as a national symptom of the desire to pursue one’s self-interest. That’s not a goal I share.

Meanwhile, during my years here in Canada I’ve seen first hand the benefits of striving for a collective good. Whether it’s looking for ways to try to tame climate change, or making it possible for at least some of the displaced Syrians and other refugees make a life here, or sending military in support of U.N. peacekeeping activities, Canadians truly seem to believe that we’re all in this together.

Where we come from imprints on our soul in ways we’re often not even aware of. But home is the place you end up as a result of the choices you make. I couldn’t be happier to call Canada home.

© 2019 Ingrid Sapona

On being … sparked

By Ingrid Sapona

I try to not leave the house with dirty dishes in the sink or an un-made bed. I learned these habits from my mother. Mind you, unlike mothers who tell kids the reason they should always put on clean underwear is in case they’re in an accident, Mom never gave us a reason for why we had to make sure things were neat before we left. But, as an adult, I’ve figured out why I still do this. It has to do with unsettling it is to come home to a place that’s messy. So, most of the time my place looks fairly neat.

But, if you scratch the surface – or open a few drawers – you’ll see some clutter. Like most people, in the kitchen I have a “junk drawer” where things like spare serving spoons, random cookie cutters, and a collection of rubber bands and twist ties end up. But, if you were to have a peak in any of my four kitchen drawers, you might have trouble pointing to just one as the junk drawer. All I can say in my defense is that space is at a premium and I do have a method for what goes in which drawer. As for my clothes drawers, I organize them by category – undies, t-shirts, workout clothes, etc. But, a corner of each drawer also contains random stuff I never found a proper place for.

Over the years, I’ve had many conversations with friends and family about decluttering and getting rid of things. One of my sisters’ mantras is “set it free”. This definitely works for her – her house is by far the neatest in our family. My other sister seems to get more motivation from the idea that she’d doing a good deed by donating things. The idea that someone else might make use of things I no longer need is a great motivator for me.

This brings me to Marie Kondo. CP, a good friend of mine, mentioned Kondo a couple years ago after reading her books. CP was enthusiastic about Kondo’s method of going through your things and keeping only items that “spark joy”. Despite CP’s explanation, I didn’t really understand the whole “spark joy” concept. I was also put off by the fact that her method had become a “phenomenon”. So, I didn’t bother looking for her books.

Then recently, my sister and I came across Tidying Up with Marie Kondo on Netflix. We looked at the descriptions of the episodes and saw that none were about people in our situation – singles living in modest-size condos. But, since retirement is in view for my sister, we chose an episode about a recently retired couple who wanted to declutter, now that they’ve retired. Turns out the woman had a huge collection of Christmas decorations and one room was filled floor-to-ceiling with boxes the husband’s baseball cards. I couldn’t relate to their home, but it was interesting to observe how they both changed through the decluttering process Marie led them through.

We decided to watch a couple more episodes. After a few shows you get the basics of Kondo’s method. She always starts with making the people put all their clothes in a pile – literally all of them. Then they have to pick up each one and decide if it’s something they want to keep. To my surprise, she was lighter on the “sparking joy” stuff than I expected. But, she was quite particular about how the clothes should be folded. To be honest, it seemed to be origami-inspired obsessiveness.

Another surprising thing was that she never talks about decluttering, nor does she tell anyone to get rid of stuff. Instead, she talks about tidying, which is very different. But, by heaping all your stuff – all your decorations, books, toys, or whatever – into one place, you confront how much you have. Then, by actually touching each item you really come to grips with whether you need it all. So, getting rid of at least some of the excess seems inevitable.

Sometimes she did encourage people to assess whether each item sparked joy. For folks who are really into clothes, I did get the sense that they got a special feeling of joy from certain items. (That wouldn’t be the case for me, but…) For others she suggested a different approach. With the retirees, for example, she asked them to decide what they wanted to take with them into their future. That is a decision I could relate to…

Finally, by the sixth episode or so, I understood the spark she’s talking about. For me it’s about creating a tranquil surrounding. It’s about making your home a place that makes you relaxed when you walk in. In other words, creating a place you feel “at home” which, I supposed, is just a long-winded way of saying a place that sparks joy.

If you’ve not checked out the show, I urge you to. It’s inspiring in ways I never imagined. I dare you to try her clothes folding technique too – doing so sparks joy AND I’m sure you’ll find that the clothes take up less space. Who knew?

© 2019 Ingrid Sapona