Settling In?

           When I’m asked how I’m settling into our new home, my enthusiastic response is that all is fine, we love it here. So far, so true, but I am mindful that there are at least three aspects of ‘settling in’ – physical, psychological and social – the simplest of these being the first. The new place is now fitted out as we want it – but for the last piece in the jigsaw, the mid-century classic designer easy-chair that would make my life complete. It took some time to identify the right model, but I fell finally for a swivelling beauty that featured as a prop in Fassbinder’s 1974 film Fear Eats the Soul (a classic, in itself, of the tribulations of displaced persons). The internet rapidly yielded up its treasure in the form of a sympathetically refurbished model, which will be arriving in the next few days.

          Of course, one could go on indefinitely, tweaking and refining one’s home, but therein lies a danger of slipping into displacement activity – the art of avoiding what really needs doing, which is ensuring a robust and healthy mental state. And, whilst this was factored into our relocation at the planning stage, its continuance depends on making the most of the benefits on offer, in this case the combination of city-based cultural facilities and seaside leisure opportunities. Unfortunately, the former is currently locked down and, as for the latter, it being winter, I have not yet got around to messing about on the water. However, I have tried my hand at open-air table tennis on the concrete tables handily situated next to the coffee kiosk by the open-air swimming pool. Sport is not my thing, so I approached it in the spirit of recreational fun rather than competitive showing-off and, for a while, I had a laugh knocking the ball to and fro with my Other Half on the tacit assumption that our aim was to keep a rally going for as long as possible. Sport, however, is my OH’s thing, so it was not long before she smashed a forehand that sent the little ball whizzing past my head and perilously close to dropping into the sea. Either I shall have to nurture my competitive gene or find a like-minded co-player. Meanwhile, we can agree on amiable, non-competitive walking and cycling expeditions until the vaccine – and the weather – work their magic and we can branch out.

          Social distancing notwithstanding, making new friends – the third requirement of ‘settling in’ – is a priority for us both, and the ‘lockdown lull’ does afford an opportunity to reflect on how to go about it. Thinking back, my existing friends are the consequence of fate and circumstance: I didn’t set out consciously to net any one of them. But as a relocated person and without the benefit of reckless, youthful enthusiasm, making new friends is a more conscious process, like being at a party where you don’t know anyone and are obliged either to introduce yourself or wait to be approached. But with the party on hold, I should review what I might bring to it in the way of friendship. I have no doubt I could hone my offer – cultivate the art of becoming more interesting and interested – that sort of thing. Let’s face it, who wants to adopt a needy friend? Friendship is, after all, a two-way exchange. Or perhaps it is more than that? William James* raised another possibility when he posited, “Whenever two people meet, there are really six people present. There is each man as he sees himself, each man as the other person sees him, and each man as he really is.”  With this in mind, one approaches the business of friendship thoughtfully.

*William James, psychologist and philosopher (1842-1910)