self-reflection may take a long time

Over some 20 years Eric Carle’s kids book “The Grouchy Ladybug” was one of my favourite readings during evening lecture with my growing children. I found it so witty and amusing, and my children loved it too.
The story is about a ladybug, so full of his ego that he doesn’t like sharing any food, in this case a particularly delicious meal of aphids. Frustrated about himself and the world, he flew of, angrily confronting ever bigger animals in far-off places. Until he meets a whale, that gives him unintentionally a flap with his tail. Propelled by its intense energy, he lands on the very same leaf he departed the very morning. A friendly ladybug grants him a remainder of aphids in a friendly gesture.
Though reading and retelling the story at least a hundred times, the thought that this story might have to do with my own personal life never occurred to me.
At least, this was my perception, until some three weeks ago. This evening, we had a dinner at home with our Japanese friend Dr Masa.
He said: “Well, recently we thought about you, in our Kuala Lumpur university campus. Actually, we really need somebody like you who does bring energy and change. However, there is this other Westerner, and for sure you’re going to fight. You industry people always want to fight.”
I listened somewhat amused. Then, my Sarawak wife Maureen, who had been silent for a long time, added another profound perspective. “You are neither happy nor proud of your home country,” she said to me. “This is your big mistake. You must cherish your blood and appreciate your family, culture and strength.”
Indeed.
Like the grouchy ladybug, I left my home country after a not-so-happy childhood, and with many emotional scars back from school days. I went to work in some ten countries for almost thirty years, in a life always characterized by some form of struggle and frustrated goals.
Only gradually the insight came to me that there is nothing like one’s home country – from legal, freedom-of-movement and sentimental perspectives. Even if it hurts, it may be better than the rest.
My hopes are to find a big, strong whale that gives me the necessary flap, and sends me home. Perhaps, after what happened, there may be a few aphids left for me.

© 2014 Franz L Kessler