Could I learn from you – freedom? I felt your heart wasn't chained your mind wasn't chained. You had no securities and you were at times fragile and naked like a snail or the wing of an insect, still moist and sticky. . Is this enough to be happy? . I wondered how you'd come … Continue reading Freedom
Pasha, I remember your room full of suitcases, wigs manequins and – what the heck else? One of 7 rooms. Was your mum's spirit in there? . I remember they were made of leather, not plastic, and one of them said 1956? I remember the photos from Cambridge. How did you get through there as … Continue reading Found in one of the suitcases
/*this is a mild article on trauma related to cultural alienation from the perspective of someone whose migration experiences weren't dramatic or violent thank God, so no trigger warnings. Brief and non-graphic mention of a friend's refugee camp story*/ This morning found myself looking at the signup information for a professional course in trauma therapy … Continue reading Language and trauma
as they do in Romania, a pig probably has to be slaughtered. the question is in the choice of pig. some good candidates are pride, identity, comfort, psychological defences, love, money, career, or perhaps home, childhood; the past, the future, memories, or hopes. it's a good menu. apparently slaughtering nothing leads to nothing to eat … Continue reading Berlin mon amour, migrant dilemmas
People are different here. They don't send money back home to their parents. Instead, their parents buy them cars or houses. . They don't hang on to life and sanity with the last claws of their humanity, will power, focus. Many walk placidly. There is indifference and distance. . They are reasonably comfortable. Perhaps explore … Continue reading Crumbling the Berlin wall
I crossed this border once again. The mythic border, across the river in the mist in the mornings, heading towards the sunrise, when i was a very small child. it's ingrained in my brain, perception and heart even though there is no border here anymore. Even the Syrians can apparently pass. No one controlled me. … Continue reading Iron Curtain 2018. (Wherein I cross my childhood border and revisit spiritual remnants of the Berlin wall.)
Reflections on similarities and cross-connections between being a cultural outsider (migrant, third culture kid, cross-cultural, bilingual) and conceptualising aspie-style autism as a (sub)cultural difference. Life experiences and resources.