Once Again, Today My Life Begins

As I finally turned my home office into something habitable and less distracting, and once again found the perfect spot to hang a picture of me that my dear friend Joshua gave me three years ago when I was “starting a new life”—a picture that has since traveled across continents, countries, and cities with me—I found myself asking a now-familiar question as I begin life afresh once more:When does our life start?

When we are conceived?
When we are born?
When we reach the legal age of adulthood?
When we are baptized, for Christians, or when we finish studying the Koran?
When we leave our parents’ home?
When we become self-sufficient?

Perhaps our lives begin many times. At least for me, it feels that way, because I don’t think there is a single answer we can all agree on.

Some moments divide our lives into distinct chapters, and when we cross those thresholds, the old ends and the new begins. But when exactly does that beginning occur? Does life begin the moment a chapter closes, even before the next one has revealed itself? Or does it only begin when the new phase finally takes shape?

I don’t know. But as I sit here writing this, a warm mug of Citrosan within arm’s reach instead of a glass of wine, because this chick has the flu, once again single (had to sneak this in here), I realize that today, in this new city and this new home, my life begins again.

It’s quite interesting that the origin of this new phase of my life was the winter freaking flu I had earlier this year, which left me hospitalised and sicker than I’ve been in years. And now, as I write this, I find myself once again bogged down with the flu, compounded by the stress of moving. Lucky me!

This beginning feels quite monumental because almost exactly this time last year, I found myself wrestling with the question of what “home” means and where home is for me (and please do not get me started with “home” is where the heart is, or any of those “feel good” talks). After so many relocations, I had reached a point where I didn’t know where home was anymore (some sort of identity crisis), and my living situation didn’t really help matters.

So, while this isn’t the first time I have started over, it is the first time in a long while that I know where I am beginning from. So maybe I needed this kinda reset, despite the heartache and stress that came with it—I needed it to discover where I belong.

And so tonight, as the sun sets and I write this while listening to Bruno Mars’ Today My Life Begins, and looking out through my curtainless home in proper Dutch fashion, I feel a mix of emotions, but I am mostly grateful for a new beginning and for finally finding and creating a home. I will have a glass of wine (or a bottle) when I feel better.