A Heart Split in Two
By: Chiara Bruzzi
Dong… the kangsê bell rings, and silence fills the room. My eyes close, and I find myself lost in my thoughts. In a soothing voice, I hear my dad say, “let’s begin with 21 breaths.” I breathe in and out deeply, letting every thought get washed away with the next exhale. My mind begins to clear as warmth fills my body. I am in a state of complete awareness.
Meditation is a wondrous experience that entirely changes one’s perspective on life. Lately, meditation and Buddhism have helped me gain insight into the meaning of attachment. I learned that you are a no better version of yourself if you are suffering. Letting go of those thoughts that cause stress means evaluating whether they are sincere or a weapon to your mind. That is what I am doing today; I am confronting the emotional challenges I face as an immigrant.
When I was ten years-old, I moved from Italy to the United States. At first, I experienced the ‘honeymoon phase’ of cultural shock. Everything around me felt vibrant as if the evergreen trees and the sunny Miami weather, made the United States a country full of new opportunities. At the time, change felt thrilling. I was familiarizing myself with an unknown world, while my attachment to Italy developed. While keeping the promise I made to my Zia about visiting once a year, I returned to Italy every summer for vacation. That made me feel comfortable about permanently moving to Miami since there was no reason to question my roots. At that point, I was traveling West on the right-lane of cultural shock.
I first learned about cultural shock as a one-way street: a feeling of disorientation felt by immigrants when they land in their new country of residence. It wasn’t until the summer of 2018 that I began to understand the intricacies of cultural shock. That summer, a weird feeling engulfed me as I landed in Italy. I started noticing the cultural and structural aspects of Italy that I was blind to before. On the drive home from the airport, I observed how the vegetation and street signs were suddenly of duller colors. When I socialized with my friends, I couldn’t believe how ignorant they were about race and sexuality. It did not occur to me that they had grown up in a different world, a world where racism was not a controversial topic discussed regularly. After that summer, I realized that I was beginning to experience the second lane of cultural shock. The road that travels East and takes you back home in a peculiar car– unlike the one you left in.
It is not insecurity about belonging that is causing the emotional challenges I face today. I know I belong in the United States because it is my home, but it is my second home. It is my future, but it is not my past. During my journey, the thought of seeing Italy with a new pair of eyes felt terrifying, which made it clear that my attachment to Italy was causing stress instead of promoting love. Through Buddhist meditation, I understood that the decreasing time I spent in Italy throughout the years or the change in the language I ‘dreamt in’ were no measure of my identity. I am not Italian because of the ties that bind me there; I am Italian because it’s in my blood. In a TedTalk, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie said, “Culture doesn’t make people, people make culture.” That is what I am doing today. I am making my own culture with all of its diversities and complexities of a life lived half in Italy and half in the United States. Of a heart split in two, between two worlds that are very different yet beautiful in their own way. In the end, my heart may be conflicted, but it is always united by love.
Beautiful insights and writing!
Realistically true
A very good piece. I often feel the same way, but rather than embracing both worlds, as you do, I tend to lean and stick to the old of Odessa.