Last weekend was the first time in over 16 years that I returned to Norway, my birthplace and the home of my father's side of the family. I don't have any good reason for not returning sooner, and even fewer good reasons since graduating from university.

As I prepared for the visit and reached out to family and old friends, I felt this internal resistance and sense of fear. But what was there to be scared of?

It ultimately took talking it out with a few friends and writing this post before I recognized that it was partially, if not mostly, centered around personal identity.

What one identifies with is quite personal but generally not all that mysterious. Most of us identify with the culture in which we were raised. This includes preferring the culture's food, speaking the shared language, celebrating the culture's important holidays—shallow cultural markers—and embracing and investing in the culture's religion and core values—deep cultural markers.

As much as I enjoy Norwegian food, as a vegan1, I can't consume the vast majority of it. And although Norwegian was my first language, after the age of thirteen, I hardly ever spoke it again and my ability to speak it has atrophied since to an embarrassing degree.

When I returned to Norway, my implicit rejection of the shallow cultural values made it obvious to me, and surely to my family and friends, that I was not as "Norwegian" as my passport or my name might suggest. Or as "Norwegian" as I used to be.

I was scared that I would be rejected or made to feel like an outsider. Whether this was a legitimate fear or not is beside the point; speaking to one's family in English instead of our native Norwegian is (and was) a little uncomfortable.

Ultimately, none of these fears came to pass, and I was welcomed home with open arms!

Now that I've had a few days to let the experience sink in, what did I learn, where does this leave me?

First, learn from my mistakes, and don't let fear or discomfort stop you from rekindling old relationships2. I had plans to visit my sick grandma in Norway in 2015, only a mere seven years since my last visit, but by the time I finished my university quarter, it was too late, and she had passed away. I never had a chance to say goodbye.

I don't want any more such experiences. Sit with the discomfort of being reacquainted for but a moment, it's worth it.

Second, Paul Graham wrote an essay in 2009 titled “Keep your identity small", and I think about this essay quite often. For me, keeping my identity small means avoiding the trap of reflexively defending bad ideas or harmful practices because I identify with the group or individuals who promote them.

Norway—like all other countries and cultures—has many wonderful features, but I strive to evaluate each one as impartially as I can. Admittedly, this is a lot easier said than done, but it is also worth it.

And third, shallow cultural markers are usually a lot more visible and therefore get more attention. Deep cultural markers on the other hand, are much more difficult to explicitly express, at least not without some expensive commitment.

Have I made any expensive commitments that express a marker of some deeper value? Should I? And in which direction?

These are questions I'm trying to answer but I believe they have something to do with having the courage to be an individual while remembering that deep integration with family, friends, and the broadest possible circle of living creatures, is where the magic truly lies.

We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down.

This quote by Kurt Vonnegut has been on my mind since I encountered it about a month ago. Good quotes can capture a truth about the world with an elegant and poetic phrase, always making you wish you had come up with it yourself. The difficulty in describing certain truths is that they cannot, by their very nature, be expressed in language.

So, what truth does this quote gesture at? Why must we continually jump? And how do we develop wings?

In my own way of gesturing at these underlying ideas, I will reflect on a few other quotes.

From Destiny1, a poem by David Whyte:

Strangely, every person always lives out their destiny no matter what they do, according to the way they shape the conversation... [our destiny's] promise may depend upon a brave participation, a willingness to hazard ourselves in a difficult world, a certain form of wild generosity with our gifts;...

Our experience of life "may depend upon a brave participation"—the courage to admit ignorance while striving to eliminate it, the courage to say "I love you" even if you're unsure you'll hear it repeated back to you, and the courage to look like a fool while you're improving your trade.

From Michael Nielsen on Conversations with Tyler:

You're constantly expanding the legible, and when you do that, there's this penumbra of illegibility that surrounds it. That moves, but it gives you access to those other spaces.

To think, "I'm done, that's it," is a terrible mistake; we must always be vigilant and ready to learn. As the "other spaces" around you expand, you must face them with renewed bravery and a deeper appreciation of what came before.

From Wayne Gretzky, NHL hockey player (and me after my missed jump shot):

You miss 100% of the shots you don't take.

You develop into a shooter by taking shots; there is no other way. This understanding unlocks a certain freedom; to grow, one needs to be challenged, and ultimately, it's not personal.

And why must we continually jump off cliffs? Isn't once enough?

From Dean W. Ball on Hyperdimensional:

We do not know the answer, and it doubtful that there is such a thing as "an answer" to problems of this kind. It is not just that finding the answer will be a process. The answer will be the process.

Essential processes that don't evolve to survive in the new environment die. Adaptability is, has, and will likely always be an important ingredient for success. To be good at adaptation, you need to continually adapt.

And from Maya Angelo:

Courage is the most important of all the virtues because without courage, you can't practice any other virtue consistently.

Doing something once doesn't require the same courage as doing it consistently does. We must continually admit ignorance, say "I love you," and feel like fools because doing so continually is the only way to improve and find new cliffs to jump off of.

Subscribe now