The Welsh word, hiraeth, is new to me. It is pronounced: here-eyeth, with a roll of the ‘r’ if one is so inclined and able. Scholars advise that translation of hiraeth to English is not definitive but I find that, with it’s varied and elusive definitions, hiraeth is the perfect word to describe my mood and mindset these days.
I have been a little off-kilter recently; easily distracted and anxious. My mother would have described this as feeling discombobulated. With higher than usual work stress, extended periods of isolation and our community being under the cloud of a worsening pandemic, my reactions seem logical and situational. Worry is a largely wasted emotion so I’m trying not to worry.
Writer Lily Crossley-Baxter explained hiraeth in a February 15th 2021 article, The Untranslatable Word That Unites Wales. She writes,
‘A blend of homesickness, nostalgia and longing, hiraeth is a pull on the heart that conveys a distant feeling of missing something irretrievably lost.’
The article also notes that the unreachable nature of longing adds an element of grief, but somehow it is not entirely unwelcome. What an interesting dichotomy.
This longing can be for people, places or things. It is described as wistfulness, the language of the soul and the love that stays after someone or something has gone. Hiraeth is important culturally to the Welsh, often referring to the loss of language and traditions.
I am longing for the familiar and predictable and for the company of friends and family. I want a return of the ease with which I could hug my grandson or arrange to be with a best friend who is very ill.
It is a comfort to know that many of us are feeling not quite ourselves lately. I wonder how this past year will impact us in the long run. Parts of our former world view may be irretrievably lost.
I’m intrigued with hiraeth. It’s given me a context of acceptance for my struggles, even if they’re blurry and hard to pinpoint. This allows space for my usual optimism to show up. It may be true that the darkest hour is just before dawn.
Work will return to a normal pace and we will eventually be able to connect with others in person. I’ve had my first vaccination shot. I’m ready to give up my favourite pandemic pants and change my covid-coifed hair.
Outside my window, daffodils are blowing in the breeze. Spring has arrived.
For now, I’m still keeping the notion of hiraeth close to me like an understanding friend who just gets it.
