‘What drives you to relocate with your family every 2-3 years,’ I was asked on a recent podcast as I was preparing for our move from Switzerland to Southern Spain.
The question seemed so simple, yet, I couldn’t find the right words.
I felt like I had to say something, to wrap it all into one simple answer, as it felt so clear in my head.
But nothing.
Nothing that would fully equate to the profound drive, nothing tangible to live up to the question.
As I was breathing in I thought of our children… and all the different places we lived in, the new starts, the anxious look in their eyes on their first day at the new school in the new country, reading over the few lines they had written down on a small cardboard in their hand to introduce themselves in the new language.
I thought of the packing and unpacking, of letting go, closing one chapter and opening a new one, of the friends we made and how much we learned from them.
I saw the kids cycling across lush green fields after school and rolling down sand dunes on weekends, the melted gelato running down their tiny hands, and the jumps into cold lakes.
I heard them scream ‘I did it’ when they first made it to the bottom of the mountain on their snowboard all in one go, I felt the overwhelming cocktail of happy & sad emotions at their surprise goodbye party.
I thought of their ability to reinvent themselves over and over again, to adapt and integrate while staying true to themselves, their ability to let go of judgements and to simply enjoy the moment.
I thought of the deep dives we undertook to understand the people and their culture we were lucky enough to explore and enjoy in each place.
And the bonding as a family.
I felt the answer so deep in my heart, with every fibre of my body, and yet knew that it may not be enough for the outside world.