Expatriation – A State of Mind

The term expatriate is not the first descriptor that most people attach to Thoreau, a man who got the most out of exploring his proverbial backyard in Massachusetts. Yet, despite never traveling farther than the wild hinterlands of Maine, Thoreau’s biggest, most well-known accomplishment—living alone for two years in the woods—qualifies as a special case of expatriation. After all, not only did Thoreau live beyond his native habitat in an alien environment, but he also learned a way of life that was entirely unfamiliar to all but the most seasoned pioneers: those men and women for whom one might call the wilds a native land.

None of which is to say that all settlers are expats. Being an expat in the sense that Thoreau was an expat concerns more than simple geography. Being an expat like Thoreau has much more to do with one’s perception of the world.

Whereas the common definition of expatriation defines the term in regard to one’s residence, making an expat out of any bourgeoise immigrant who seeks out a new life in another part of the world, expatriation more aptly describes the actions of those individuals who reveals what is seemingly hidden by uncovering that which lies concealed in plain sight. Real expats may indeed be travelers in or residents of foreign countries, but more importantly, they are people who bring a set of fresh eyes to some part of the world that everyone else has forgotten to observe; and whether they find themselves in a foreign country or a forgotten patch of land, expats are explorers in that their very habitation is the means by which they seek to understand.

As further explanation consider that most wanderers in the mold of Thoreau do not conceive of travel the way ordinary people do—they do not, for instance, merely visit; but instead feed on the novelty of the bizarre such that the taste of every cultural eccentricity encountered along a journey becomes a craving that needs to be fully digested to be completely understood. For an expat such as Thoreau, it is not enough to simply stop and smell the roses. Instead, such like-minded men and women are compelled to take up residence, walk the streets, and learn to pronounce the names of unfamiliar things and faraway places in other languages. For most, such acts of devotion require relocation to some exotic locale, but for Thoreau the impulse ‘to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life’ led him to develop an acuity attuned to the hidden elements of the natural world not far from his home in Concord.

In fact, for Thoreau, the great unknown existed but a stone’s throw from his native habitat, and maybe the same could be said for many—if not all others—if they were only so inclined to seek out revelation with the vigilance of a man like Thoreau. And yet, even those molded in the same general form as good ol’ Henry may not find what they look for so close to home. They may instead have to venture farther, seeking hidden promise in distant lands which they do not yet understand. And although the majority of travelers cannot dedicate their lives to alien lands, when Thoreau and his cohort of like-minded travelers commune with the world, they remind us of the universal value of exploration.

And so, whether you choose to sound a pond, examine a tree, or fly away to another country, remember to open your heart and mind, and let the moment—whatever that moment may be—wash over you. Let it dissolve a bit and let yourself become concentrated in its effluence. If only for a moment, become a temporary expat.