Homesick in the Holy Land?

Summer came.  Eli was watching videos of the latest olim arriving, while smiling at the sights so familiar to him from his aliya a year earlier.  He then closed his computer and sighed.   Suffused in that sigh, he had to admit, was a bit of sadness.  Sadness about missing his old home and the difficulties he had endured since arriving in Israel.  Sadness that didn’t quite sit well with his Israel-loving, aliya-proud self.  “I’m living the dream, why sadness?” he muttered to himself in semi-rebuke.  He shut away the unwelcome feeling and went on with his day.

Every oleh knows that aliya involves a whole set of challenges, such as saying goodbye to family and friends, finding new jobs, beginning new schools, learning a new language, and deciphering a new culture.  While most people expect the process of aliya to be challenging, some, like Eli,  are genuinely caught off guard when they find themselves feeling sad or overwhelmed along the way.  As with Eli, the cause for the surprise is often that these people chose to make aliya, they were looking forward to it and were quite aware of the hurdles that lay ahead.  So why, they often wonder, are they feeling sad if they’re “living the dream”?

There’s much to be said on this topic, but for now we’re going to look at one aspect, which interestingly overlaps with the world of relationships. That aspect involves an often overlooked, or even unknown dynamic at play, known as “place attachment.”

To understand place attachment,  we need to briefly review some key elements of a widely known theory known as “attachment theory.”  According to this theory, forming emotional bonds, or “attachments,” to our closest caregivers, such as our parents, is a critical part of childhood development.  A child who forms a secure attachment uses the caregiver as a “secure base,”  allowing them to explore their world with the knowledge that if they encounter danger, they can always retreat to the safety of their caregiver.  

A young child who loses sight of their attachment figure will experience rupture and protest, usually by crying. A common example is a child who cries the first time a parent leaves them with a babysitter. 

As a person grows, they maintain their connections to their attachment figures but the connection depends less on physical closeness and more on knowing that the attachment figure exists as a source of support.  Adults can also experience crisis upon the loss of attachment figures from their life.  

What has any of this to do with aliya and Eli (aside from the obvious and easily understood difficulty in parting from close relatives and friends)?

In recent decades, researchers have taken a closer look at the experiences of individuals who left their homes and settled in new locations.  They noted that connections between people and their homes bear considerable similarities to the connections that people have with significant figures in their lives.  Accordingly, when connection to home was lost, they demonstrated symptoms resembling responses of those who have lost connections with important figures in their lives.  Why would this be?

At a very basic level, residing in a place that is familiar  - where one knows the location of essential resources and where to find shelter in a time of danger -  increases a person’s safety and security.  With a sense of safety and security in place, a person becomes free to tend to other important areas of life such as building family and community, and pursuing other creative interests. Beyond that, residing in a place that is familiar affords a sense of belonging, which is another important psychological need for human beings. 

Essentially,  just as humans form attachments to their caregivers, they also form attachments to the places they call home.  Just as a child experiences distress upon separating from his caregiver, any individual can experience distress upon separating from a place that grants safety, security and belongingness.

And therefore, when Eli left the surroundings that were familiar to him, to a new location which was not as well-recognized, a crisis of sorts ensued; his attachment to place had been ruptured.   For Eli, this manifested alternately as sadness, frustration or overwhelm, despite a long list of meaningful positives in his aliya.  

So what can Eli do to manage the emotional challenges?

Firstly, he should be encouraged by the fact that the challenges of aliya tend to decrease simply with the passage of time. Anecdotally, most olim report difficulty at the beginning followed by gradual easing and increasing satisfaction with their aliya.

Secondly, researchers have found that the key to successful adjustment is to combine the old and the new.  This means that Eli should seek to become actively involved in his new environment, such as by participating in community activities, forming relationships with neighbors and even being active in creating and improving his new living space.  Becoming involved will enable Eli to establish a new attachment to his new home, which can then offer the same psychological benefits that his old home provided.  At the same time, carrying parts of the old home into the new home is also important.  For example, resuming hobbies and family rituals in Israel, as practiced prior to aliya, can also be helpful in linking the new environment to the old.  

Additionally, it’s important for Eli to keep in mind that there’s nothing wrong with missing his old home, (even though his new home is in The Holy Land and his old one wasn’t).  Reminiscing about “the old country” with family and other olim who come from Eli’s hometown can be a healthy activity, as it promotes a sense of continuity, rather than loss and rupture.  

Finally, feelings of “belonging” to a new home also ease the adjustment process.  Considering that, to begin with, Eli immigrated to Israel because he felt that Israel is where he is meant to live, chances are in his favor that his own feelings of belonging will blossom with time.