“If we’d open people up, we’d find landscapes.” ~ Agnès Varda
I found this provocative line in a book I read recently (You Could Make This Place Beautiful by poet Maggie Smith, whose life has been rooted in Ohio). Seeing this line in her memoir, my mind skipped back to my own origins in Pennsylvania, the thought inviting me to reflect on my early life there.
If you opened me up, you’d find Pennsylvania. I lived there, in the keystone state, during the early part of my life.
Two Longenecker houses sat on Anchor Road. One was the green-shuttered, white frame house, where I lived with my parents, sisters, and brother. The other was a Victorian house surrounded by woods, situated about a half-mile away, down over a steep hill where my Grandma Longenecker lived with her daughter, my Aunt Ruthie. My sisters and I bounced between the two houses back and forth, up the hill and down. And up and down in another way, exploring each house from cellar to attic. (lines from Mennonite Daughter: The Story of a Plain Girl. Marian Longenecker Beaman) xxi
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In her memoir of self-discovery, Maggie Smith (not the actress) explores the influence of place in her early life and into adulthood as she grapples with an unwanted divorce and its effect on herself and her children. But she also goes deep into personal emotion, quoting Emily Dickinson in another epigraph, “I am out with lanterns looking for myself.”
“I am out with lanterns looking for myself” was a sentiment Emily Dickinson wrote to a friend, trying to describe how it felt for her, a homebody, to move into a new house. I think of that phrase often, when I’m struggling to feel at home, either in my actual home or just in my skin. The search for my true/new self is an uncomfortable journey, not unlike stumbling through a dark house in the middle of the night. But at least I have a home to stumble through and I’m adding/finding new sources of light, so this wandering won’t last forever.
~ Leah Ellison Bradley
Pexels, free images
A different perspective
Your Thoughts please . . .
Have you been deeply rooted in a place? Are you now?
Have you moved recently and find it hard to adjust to a new environment?
What do you think of Emily Dickinson’s line: “I am out with lanterns looking for myself”? How do you think it relates to the verse from the book of Matthew?
JOY AND STRUGGLE: LIFE’S STAGES
Good morning, Marian! Such thought-provoking quotations! Two to ponder.
You grew up in a picturesque area, and both houses are beautiful.
I don’t feel like I’m a Jersey or Philly person in particular, but we’ve lived in this house the longest of anywhere I’ve ever lived, and of course, I’ve become attached to my walks by the river. 😊
The best thing about your walks by the river is that you share the beauty with us.
I don’t know much about Jersey living, but I’m somewhat familiar with Philly–the zoo, the Liberty Bell, and of course Temple University. Thanks again, for commenting in the wee hours, Merril!
You’re welcome and thank you, Marian.
My friend was telling me a few weeks ago how impressed she is with Temple’s new library (new since either of us had been there).
I’d love to see it. 😀
Have you been deeply rooted in a place? Are you now? Much to my amazement I am rooted to where we live now.
Have you moved recently and find it hard to adjust to a new environment? Haven’t moved recently but I didn’t want to move here, yet have made a good go of it. It took years to adjust though.
What do you think of Emily Dickinson’s line: “I am out with lanterns looking for myself”? How do you think it relates to the verse from the book of Matthew? I think Emily and Matthew are onto how life really works, things don’t go smoothly yet you have to adapt, with your lantern in hand, while remaining true to yourself and a higher cause.
It’s interesting how it took such a long time to adjust to your current abode, yet you feel rooted where you are now planted. That last sentence is an A+ answer, the best summary of the post to date. Thank you for all this, for which you are now dubbed Academic Ally. At least for today–hahaha! 😀
My landscapes have been:
a farm in Indiana,
a larger farm in north Florida,
a rented space with five others above a store near Troublesome Creek KY rippling by,
an EMC dorm room with a roommate from New Jersey I’d never met,
a large “intentional community” household with 13 others my Sophomore year at EMC,
a convent in Barcelona Spain where nuns lived in the basement and kinda wild college kids lived on the two floors above,
a small apartment at EMC shared with two other women,
a second floor apartment with a great roommate/friend on High Street in Harrisonburg,
a 45-foot mobile home at a trailer park on the south end of Harrisonburg with my new hubby, a first real ranch home a year later on “Gravels Road” near Harrisonburg,
and then, finally, this brand new house 15 years ago where we stay.
For now. I do ponder sometimes where and when we might live as we age further.
Not such a long list but good memories everywhere. I hope I’ve lived life for a higher cause as in Matthew! Thanks for this opportunity to go down memory lane.
You’re welcome, Melodie, and thank you for the summary. I can identify with EMC living (in the dorm and in off-campus housing, the Peachey House) and also with trailer life with two other teachers for the three years I taught at Lancaster Mennonite School.
I’m glad this post gave you reason to reminisce. 😀
Great quotes, Marian. 😊 I’m still in the state in which I was born (Illinois). As for the verse in Matthew, I think about how nowadays, the culture encourages people to “Do you/Do your own thing” But the Matthew passage encourages people to “Lose your life in Him/Do His thing.”
Living in Illinois, you see four distinct seasons. Here in Florida, we are hoping and praying for minimal hurricane damage now and an end to the endless summer. I love our weather from mid-October to mid-May, so I’m not complaining.
Yes, if we live our life for others, and for Christ’s cause, we can experience greater fulfillment. Thanks for this, L. Marie! 😀
Love these quotes and these questions, Marian. I don’t like to admit it, but “if you opened me up” my first landscape would be southern New Jersey, where I was raised. As an adult, it’s not a place I’m comfortable with and in truth I couldn’t wait to escape the small state. But where we are raised does form us. I can see scads of stories coming forth from this idea – and will share it with my creative writing students.
I used an inner lantern to shine in each place I lived. When I moved to CA I knew nothing of the area and knew no one. But it became “my place” and has the largest part of my heart, geographically. I didn’t want to move to the Boston area and thus needed a bigger lantern, but I have found a place here where I’m settled, cozy in my home and writing space and family.
That said, I think we should always keep our lanterns on, finding ourselves figuratively – keeping tabs on our soul and our Spirit that surrounds others, ‘being there’ to help and share. That’s exactly what you do with this post.
Oh, Pam, I love that you will share this idea with your creatives. I’d be curious what comes when their experiences are mixed with our own. I get shivers just thinking about what memories this will stir.
Thanks so much for expanding on the idea of using a bigger lantern to find our way as we adjust to new spaces. I believe you have family close by in Boston, which may help you feel more “rooted.”
😀
Hi,
Having been uprooted from the country I was born in and living in another country, I truly believe people who do that go through stages like Emily Dickinson described. We don’t move to another place, and we’re there. Especially if it is a different culture where you have to learn a different language, you will feel strange or aloof, like you don’t know who you are, where you are, and where you belong. But that is natural. It takes time to adjust, and it doesn’t happen overnight. Accepting where you are, unknowingly, is the first step in putting down roots; before you become aware of it, you feel at home. At least that is my experience.
Shalom shalom
Pat, I see “Shalom” written over the spaces and places you have lived. And I sense your soul has expanded with the moves, some requiring you to learn another language. My grandson is now in a German class, and I’ll tell you, he has great appreciation for what it takes to learn such a complex language as a native English speaker.
Here’s to acceptance–and contentment, Pat. Thank you! 😀
Like Pat I now live in a country where I wasn’t born and yes we had to adapt and still have to at times but we have put down roots and are happy although I am considering or mulling over another move in my head I think I am getting more like a nomad the older I get -smile-
Carol, I know you have lived in England and now in Thailand. You may have lived in other countries I don’t know about. Just know I’m thinking of the movie “Enchanted April” in which native Londoners go for an extended holiday to Italy, the climate being the draw, I imagine. Thanks for commenting here! 😀
Our two homesteads live on in memory. Good memory always.
Thanks for the pleasant trip.
You’re welcome, Jean. We have some photos of the Anchor Road house I was born in, and after Aunt Ruthie left her gray Victorian, I photographed all the rooms and many special pieces, sort of as a security measure. Now, after the drastic renovation since then, I’m glad we can reminisce about what once enjoyed. (I think the photos are on a CD somewhere. Have to look!) 😀
I believe this photo was taken during the blizzard of 1961, which blanketed the county.
If you opened me up you’d definitely find the Saskatchewan prairie and one of the greatest gifts of my life is returning to the place that has always been my heart’s home. Hard to adjust? Not one bit. Gerry misses the mountains, but is learning to appreciate the prairie.
Linda, I believe when I first got acquainted with you, you lived in the Pacific Northwest. Then you moved back to Canada and are enjoying once again the Saskatchewan prairie. To appease Gerry you can always visit the mountains. I have fond memories of the Rockies in both Alberta and British Columbia. Thanks for commenting here. 😀
Marian — I love the quotes you shared in this lovely, thought-provoking post. We relocated from Illinois to Idaho in 2014 and immediately felt at home. The walkability alone is priceless—the views are breathtaking.
Laurie, I clearly remember the video you shared in 2014, windshield whippers flapping and you driving behind Len from Chicago to Boise. You seemed so very sure about the move, but I had some reservations because I hadn’t known all the research done behind your decision. Obviously, it was the perfect move. You are thriving. . . to the max! ;-D
Interesting comments from your lady blog friends.
After reading Melodie’s comments I think of my two sisters that live in Washington state. My dad was an electrician but couldn’t always find jobs in his field so he often became a salesman in various venues and had to go where the jobs were located.
For my Senior year of high school, instead of graduating from Idaho Falls High School where we lived at that time, I chose a private Christian school in South Carolina. While I was living in the South my two sisters were bouncing around with my Mom and Dad in three states, in many cities and countless different homes. At one time my now adult sister Joyce said she had moved 30 some times with Mom and Dad. I’ll have to check with her on that but I think that number is actually higher.
Fortunately I did not have the thrill of adjusting to a new home as my sisters had to. After graduating from college I got a part time job while living in Jacksonville, Florida. Since I had basically no income in the summer of 1966 I slept in a loving elderly couple’s house (Mom and Pop Rae), and then a Sunday School room at a small church. After I started teaching that Fall I gathered my meager salary and went BIG, and found a $50 dollar-a-month garage apartment. The one where Marian and I lived in after we were married in1967 for about 3 years.
I can’t match my siblings record of moving but after the tiny garage apartment there have been only two other homes we lived in until in our current house. Each house I call home. Where the heart is there is a home.
My mother’s word for moving was “flittin'” – as in “the Weavers are flitting,” meaning they are probably moving from one farm to another not terribly far away.
I have to say, that marrying me has stabilized you. . . now 57 years in Jacksonville, and counting! 😀
If they open me up they would find the prairies. No matter where I live, the prairies will always be my home. I love the Emily Dickenson quote. “I am out with lanterns looking for myself”. I think we all feel like we have to look for ourselves from time to time. I loved this post.
Darlene, I’m glad this post resonated with you. The Canadian prairies are very, very different from you abode in Spain, I’m guessing.
When I lived in rural PA, I never, ever dreamed I’d be living in Florida, and in a big city to boot. Oh, my goodness, what we do for love. 😀
Holding the lantern higher, and moving it around to explore those deeper and darker recesses of my mind, to find who I am, who I have become today. Watching the shadows cast as the beam of light plays against newly discovered ideas and found long-lost-but-not-forgotten thoughts and experiences. A journey of discovery, once again. Can there ever be too much of that?
I’m glad the lanterns in this post gave you some light, and possibly warmth, to live by. Thanks for expressing your thoughts here, Ginger! 😀
I lived on the east coast until I was four, the Midwest until I started high school, and the west coast since then. I doubt that we’ll move away from this area because the climate agrees with us and our friends are here. I know where my landscape is not—big city living. I never feel comfortable in places that are too urban.
My parents always used to say that they felt that Midwestern people were the most trustworthy. I don’t necessarily agree with that as it seems pretty stereotypical. I view most people as inherently good, wherever they’re from.
Agreeable climate and friends–a perfect combination for you, Pete. Cliff and I never expected to remain in Florida, but we have some relatives here and our immediate family, so I don’t anticipate moving any time soon.
Trustworthy people attract other reliable souls, so I predict you’ll always be surrounded by fine family and friends! 😀
If you were to open me up, you’d find Franklin County, Vermont. Where I’m living in New Hampshire feels like home, but Vermont is still where my heart is. I lived in Florida for three years, and I couldn’t adjust to the land. I was so homesick for deciduous trees, I could barely stand it. The landscape spoke to me of regret and failed dreams. But, that’s just me!
It sounds as though you are a New England woman through and through. Like you, I belive it’s good to be firmly rooted in a place.
I never thought i’d feel that Florida is home, what with the sandy soil and simmering summers. Yet, I’ve lived here over 56 years. Our children were born here, went away to graduate school, and then returned with grandchildren. My sister and her family are here too; we have a regular compound. 😀
Indeed, home is where the heart is. Thanks, Liz!
You’re welcome, Marian. I didn’t realize that you’d lived in Florida that long. It’s wonderful that you have close family there. It makes a difference!
Family is a good reason to remain here. We wouldn’t have stay otherwise. Thanks for the follow-up.
You’re welcome, Marian.
Beautiful quotes, Marian. My roots are in both Virginia and West Virginia. One day, I’ll return.
Both of those states are very close toe North Carolina, Jill. A new setting will give you a different sense of place, and new descriptions to write about. ;-D
The picture at the end seems to be a depiction of the state in Which I find myself now because I’m entering a dark time and will have to reinvent myself. It frightens me when I think about it too much. One step at a time…
I can’t say I understand your state of mind, but one thing I do know is that one of us will travel the road you are traversing. And we never know how soon.
Yes, one step at a time is a good plan, Elfrieda I admire your courage in showing up here regularly, with wisdom and fortitude. 😀
So much to think about here, Marian. You have a lovely collection of quotes about place and self discovery. I’ve been pulled back to the winding, narrow, roads and the luxurious green and gold fields of Lancaster County. They are both deeply familiar, and deeply rooted in my bones, and also strange and new.
I can imagine a similar feeling if I were transplanted to Lancaster County again. You aren’t the same person who left that familiar place. And I wouldn’t be the same person who returned.
Thank you, Shirley! 😀
Great quotes! I am indeed rooted in a place. I grew up on a farm, and no matter where I go or what I do, everything is rooted in the life lessons from that place. Such a privilege to grow up in tune with the land.
… even though the land and the weather can break your heart sometimes …
Arlene, I like how you express your love of the home-place: ” Such a privilege to grow up in tune with the land” and be rooted there. Thank you! 😀
Hi Marian, I always enjoy seeing pictures that correlate with your book. A lovely post.
Thank you, Robbie! And you know I love sharing them, what memoirists do. 😀
Marian, how have I never come across Emily Dickinson’s: “I am out with lanterns looking for myself.” In her light deft touch she captures that momentary loss, of oneself whether from a move or other reasons. I have moved many times in my life and am lucky enough to have had roots in several places, all of which still feel like home. My grandparent’s home, on an island in Sweden, will always be part of my soul, Yorkshire where I grew up is always within my being and stepping out onto the moors I feel complete again. Yet where I live now, and where I have lived for the longest time in my life, is very much home, imbued with being a parent, raising my son, the momentous years of my adult life. Now, I wonder where the next chapter will see me lighting my latern … there are always occasions I will need to light this up! Thank you very much for this thought-provoking post, Marian. xx
Annika, I am getting to know you better, little by little over time. I’m not sure where I met you first online as one connection leads to another. . . and another. . . and another.
You have a rich heritage and your creativity springs from that, no doubt. Your comment made me think of Tennyson in Ulysses who says,
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: . . .
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’
Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades
For ever and forever when I move.
I believe Tennyson is implying that we are shaped by all of our experiences, as you suggest here.
By the way, Emily Dickinson’s quote was new to me too. An amazing discovery. We simply can’t know everything! 😀
Marian, likewise not sure where we came across each other – but isn’t that the wonder of WP!
Thank you so much for introducing me to these two beautiful quotations which I’m saving; Tennyson’s makes my heart soar.
Thank you. . . happy to hear this!
One of my favourite passages, Marian!
😀
Although clearly, I do not know Maggie Smith, we share terrain as I am from Ohio too. I think it’s a beautiful state in many ways. I like my polite ways and my midwestern grit and my love for crunching leaves in the fall. Northeast Ohio is both plain with a large Amish community, but also lively with the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame museum. 🙂 I wonder if I will ever return there, although I’ve been gone for over 40 years. On a separate note, I am adding “I am out with lanterns looking for myself” to my favorite quote list. ♥ Thanks Marian.
In your comment, you echo Tennyson’s reflection: “I am a part of all that I have met,” the Amish community and Rock and Roll. I’m glad you could connect so well to the sentiments here–and to Emily Dickinson’s choice quote. Thanks so much, Melanie! 😀
I definitely felt this one, in particular. 😊 Have a lovely Labor Day weekend Marian!
You’re welcome! 😀
I am deeply, deeply rooted in place. As a child, my mother was always looking for a better house, so we moved every year or sometimes every other year. I didn’t like it. I love feeling rooted.Thank you for sharing the beautiful quotes, and if I can get it together I’ll respond to your last question. I’m already too sleepy to think, but I like pondering the question.
You may be your mother’s child in some ways, but not in a sense of place. For someone like you you loves stability and rootedness, moving every year or so as a child must have been very upsetting.
Your comment about sleepiness reminds me of me, practically catatonic after 9 P.M. No obligation to re-visit. . . unless you feel driven–ha!
Thank you, Elaine. 😀
Thought provoking post Marian. I can identify with Dickenson’s, “I am out with lanterns looking for myself” . I am totally rootless. I feel as though I haven’t gotten to where I need to be, yet, <3
Only you know exactly how you feel inside, but your admirers notice the book reviews you post weekly, not to mention Fifteen First Times you published earlier this year. You bravely put one foot in front of the other, regardless of how you really feel. I wonder what it will take for you to get “to where you need to be.” Huge Hugs, Debby! 😀
Thank you for saying that Marian. I believe the universe will guide me to where I need to be. For now, I’m in a holding pattern. 🙂 xx
((( )))
Beautiful post! I have thought about reading Maggie Smith’s memoir. I LOVE that line about finding a landscape in people. Kalamazoo is in me :).
Yes, I too like Maggie Smith’s “crossover” metaphor (people and landscapes) and it apparently resonates with lots of commenters here. Thanks for naming your place; now I can associate you with Michigan, Luanne. 😀
I live in PHoenix, but you can’t take Kalamazoo out of the girl . . . .
Okay, thanks, two very different climates and (I suppose) cultures. Thanks for the clarification! 😀
So true.
Thank you Marian, a lovely post. Landscape of the soul comes to mind. I love your quotes. I hope you’re all well and safe from wind and rain.
Susan, I’m not surprised you see a spiritual aspect of this post, like Landscape of the Soul.
Thanks for adding this and for thinking of us weather-wise. The hurricane passed by us on the NE part of Florida with very little damage, but folks on the west side of the state were hit harder. They are cleaning up now and getting some funds from the state, thank goodness. 😀
A wonderful post and follow-up discussion of “opening people up” Marian. I especially appreciated the title “You Could Make This Place Beautiful.” It reminded me that we can make a difference in the locations that we have lived and in the lives of people we have met. In our existence we are bound to time and location. We belong to the earth and long for home, for security. And yet, there is a part of us that does not recognize these limitations.
As Matsuo Basho notes: “Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.”
Thank you for telling us how you relate to the quotes and also mentioning a new one, Rebecca. I am not familiar with Matsu Basho or the line, “Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.” 😀
This is very moving, Marian. I have read Emily Dickinson, but I didn’t know that line, “I am out with lanterns looking for myself.” I enjoyed reading the snippet from your memoir, too. I remember the feeling of knowing my house from top to bottom, as well as both sets of grandparents’ houses. We had free run at one grandparents’ house. My other grandparents were more strict so we knew where we could go and what rooms were off limits. These are very vivid memories. I must have missed this post so I’m glad to see it now.