Interlude

Many years ago during one of my first experiences living abroad, a wise friend explained the four stages of adjustment: the honeymoon stage (you love everything! the old architecture! the exotic new people! the bread!), the hostile stage (where everything you once loved, you now hate), the grin-and-bear-it stage (finding balance but not settled . . . can last a while), and healthy adjustment (you get the picture). He said you may only go through each stage once, or you may feel like you go through each stage once a day; everyone is different, but the pattern is normal. It has been an enormously helpful point of reference over the years. We've been here over 2 months now, long enough to know what bugs, and I would say I'm firmly planted in the grin-and-bear-it stage.

Don't get me wrong, life is good, but no aspect is left untouched. Everything is different. And many of the changes still don't make sense: in some ways I have less privacy, while at the same time I'm more isolated. In almost every way that I was independent before I am now dependent. From sun-drenched freedom to dark barred windows. From home as a peaceful refuge, to surroundings that are never quiet. From a cozy cramped home to a massive sprawling floorplan. From English to Georgian, and Russian, and French . . . lots of changes. Some good and desirable, others less so. 

I'm not worried that I'll always feel this way. I know things will get better, but for the present I often find myself feeling dully dissatisfied. Surprisingly, I find that the one thing that always turns my mood around is when I focus on nurturing and educating my children. Everything else seems so completely fleeting, like dust. And my children are like an oasis of life, joy, and purpose.