homesickness

Riding on the rhythmic rattle of the Oslo-bound train, the charcoal sketch of the Norwegian countryside acts as my ever-changing backdrop – taupe fields and calming fjords nestled into the light chill of a temperate 13 degrees Celsius morning. An article I came across earlier, with its seemingly incomplete HTML code, nudges at my thoughts – a metaphor for feelings of disorientation, like those spurred by homesickness, perhaps?

Homesickness – that sweet and sour pang that worlds us around those nooks and crannies we call home. Trust me, it's a tug-of-war between your desire for independence and the longing to return to the familiarity of home, as I experience it on these train rides every now and then. Strangely enough, it's a non-geographically biased ailment; can be acquired in the most familiar of settings or the most foreign. So, how do we deal with it?

Being miles away from home for university is like being plunged into a new reality; a brand-new world steeped in independence and self-discovery. It's exciting, unbelievable and terrifying – all at once. But let's not allow homesickness to eclipse the thrilling adventure that's in front of us, shall we?

What works for me might not be a one-size-fits-all remedy, but it's worth a shot. Collecting small moments of joy in the day helps tip my emotional balance in favour of optimism. It could be the faint warmth of a cup of coffee, the rhythmic clicking of the keyboard as I pen my thoughts, or the unexpected delight of a baby's gurgle from the next compartment.

Openness to new experiences also helps deal with homesickness. Feelings of attachment to the old shouldn't dissuade us from creating the new – be it friends, memories, or experiences. Cherish your roots while allowing your branches to spread far and wide, is what I believe in.

Sharing our feelings – another effective antidote to homesickness. Whether it's discussing how much we miss our favourite dish or the comfort of our bed back home, talking about our feelings gives them less power over us, while subtly bridging distances with those we're sharing them with.

And finally, patience. Homesickness, like all feelings, is transient. It wanes. It recedes. Happens on its own sweet time, but it does happen. After all, we are not built to fret perpetually over a singular emotion.

In the grand scheme of things, homesickness is just a small detour, a minor hiccup. Our journey is filled with opportunities to grow and learn, and sometimes, a little bit of loneliness might just be the perfect seasoning to make the adventure genuinely our own.

So here's to embracing homesickness, one scenic train ride at a time, hoping that the nurturing winds of experiences will slowly lull it into silent whispers. As we journey forth, let's remember to celebrate the chapters read, and eagerly look forward to the unwritten pages yet to be discovered. With an open heart and a vibrant spirit, I am certain we can avoid the pitfall of nostalgia and stand stronger, even when we feel most distant from the comfort of home.

The familiar frosty chill of Oslo greets me as I near my destination, subtly reminding me that while the allure of home is powerful, so is the excitement of building a life that's entirely my own. With this thought, I soldier blissfully on.

-Riding the rails, one lesson at a time.

Tags: homesickness self-discovery coping strategies

Today I sit on my usual train from home to Oslo, staring at the washed-out landscape rolling by the window. The cheerless 14-degree temperature outside matches my sentiments as I type this post. I can't seem to shake off this lingering fatigue, the kind that seeps into you slowly, layer by chilling layer, when you're living a life that's so far removed from everything you've always held dear.

Studying abroad, they say, is one hell of an adventure, a ride of self-exploration and cultural enlightenment. But what they don't tell you is how often it becomes a solitary journey of quiet introspection, a bitter serving of homesickness, and an acute longing for the familiarity you've taken for granted at home.

Days stretch ahead, filled with grueling lectures, library readings, and the ceaseless chatter of my peers, pleasant yet foreign. My mornings start with an obligatory skim of global news, most of which seems to only add to the unease growing in the pit of my stomach. Take today, for instance. A peculiar headline caught my eye, but as I clicked through, the page returned the message: ‘Sorry, I can't provide the information you're asking for because you've given a partial HTML opening tag which does not contain any content or useful information. Please provide a proper URL or text content to summarize.’ It's almost reflective of this phase of international study, where half-baked, disjointed experiences and misunderstood phrases are more commonplace than one might expect.

Just as this incomplete tag failed to access the information I required, life abroad often leaves me grappling for any semblance of comfort or understanding. I am constantly learning, relearning, and unlearning my very identity. It's paradoxical, how an experience meant to broaden horizons often leaves you feeling cornered and misplaced.

As the train trundles on, a metaphorical reflection of my abroad journey, I am reminded of how much I miss the rhythms of home. The hearty laughter of friends in our familiar hangout spots, the comforting familiarity of familial banters echoing in the dining room, and the sense of belonging that comes only from the place we truly call home.

Nevertheless, this dreary journey is also my journey. The lonely path teaches resilience and promotes growth. It shapes us into a version of ourselves we never thought we could be. And while it comes replete with its own set of miseries, I have to venture out and make the most of it, even if it means writing melancholic blog posts on a chilly train ride to Oslo.

After all, the beauty of studying abroad lies in its inherent promise - the promise of a brighter tomorrow, earned through walking down an unknown path today, no matter how daunting.

Tags: studying abroad homesickness personal growth

As the morning chill of -4°C embraces the Norwegian landscape, I find myself on the train once again; my heated seat a pleasant contrast to the frosty window panes. In the soft hum of the train's machinery, an extraordinary dance of creation unfolds. The windows become a canvas, on which the cold air brushes abstract patterns, which faded as fast as they appeared.

Today, like every other morning, I use the peaceful rhythm of the journey to exercise my craft, my passion - journalism, and carve out a space for my thoughts online. Today, I feel the need to talk about something a little more personal, a little more resonating - homesickness.

Home. A simple four-letter word that carries a universe of emotions, memories and warmth within it. For many like me, who are living away from their familiar corners, homesickness can sometimes be a bitter pill to swallow. It can sneak upon us in the most unexpected moments; when we sip coffee that just isn't brewed right or when we hear a familiar tune being hummed by a stranger.

This morning, while scanning through the news, I stumbled upon an article from ABC Nyheter. It was an account of an unfortunate series of events unfolding in Avdiivka, a small town in Eastern Ukraine. The pleasant rhythm of my morning journey was disrupted by the vivid descriptions of turmoil, control, and disaster. Yet, reading about Avdiivka, it wasn't the political intrigues that resonated with me. It was the unspoken sense of longing for normalcy, for the comfort of peace. And a deep, underlying appreciation for home.

Among the bombarded structures and disrupted routines, I began to see homesickness in another light. Not as an ailment to be soothed, but as a testament to the deep connections we form with our environment, our culture, our people, and our homes. In my own struggle with homesickness, I see fragments of a universal longing for a sense of belonging that transcends borders and conflicts, knitting us closer to the human tribe.

So for those of us fighting the familiar ache of missing home, perhaps it is time to shift perspective and embrace it with a hint of gratitude. Let it serve as a reminder of the love you carry for your home, the connections you have forged, and the personal growth you have experienced in your journey away from it. Take a moment and cherish the warmth it brings, against the cold, -4°C morning.

For as much as homesickness is a longing for a place, it is equally a longing for time - a time that once seemed ordinary, until viewed from the rear-view mirror of distance. It reminds us of the incandescent joy of simple, mundane routines, and the beautiful complexity of our connections.

Life will always be a journey on a moving train. Home, the well-loved and sorely missed station we pass now and again. And homesickness, the ache that reminds us of the beautiful sights, scents, and sounds etched deep in our hearts. And for this constant reminder, today, I am grateful.

Tags: homesickness journalism Norwegian landscape