Subscribe to receive updates on House & Home for free. Stay informed with our myFT Daily Digest email that gathers the latest news every morning.© Luke BestHave you ever wondered how many times you can fall in the same pothole? I’ve pondered this question at least once a month for nearly nine years. Every time I rescue another crying child from the same spot on the uneven pavement where their foot, scooter, or bike wheel collided. How many times have we fallen in this specific pothole? A hundred? A thousand?I’m not sure what neuroscience would say about my children’s limited memory of hazards, but as humans, we create mental maps of our immediate surroundings. We navigate our daily routines, whether they encompass a small room or miles of distance. The trip to the coffee shop, school gate, office, or train station. My own daily commute consists of 6,400 familiar steps—from home, through the nursery and school, across the bridge—and finally to FT HQ. I hardly have to think about it; I simply walk it.However, my family will be moving to a new house later this summer, which means those daily steps will be numbered. In many ways, this relocation is unremarkable and unexciting: just a couple of miles down the road. We’re still in London, known as the city of villages, just skipping a few villages over. It offers more space and good schools, the clichéd factors that often shape life decisions.Although it may seem boring, this move represents a complete reconfiguration of our mental and emotional maps. Our brains and hearts will experience a reset. These streets have defined my life as a overwhelmed mother wandering through south London on autopilot. A medical professional once informed me that Alzheimer’s disease is frequently diagnosed after a house move. When you’re surrounded by the familiarity of home and daily routines, much of your actions are automatic. You know where your keys are placed, where the post box is, and how to navigate your front door. But when you’re removed from these familiar rhythms, the symptoms of mental decline can become glaringly apparent, no longer masked by the sense of familiarity.Even without a debilitating disease, moving to a new environment can reshape your brain. Confronted with novelty, different cognitive abilities come to the forefront. According to a study by UCL published in the academic journal Cerebral Cortex, the retrosplenial cortex operates when you navigate through a familiar space. However, exploring new places requires the involvement of the hippocampus. Stepping outside of your comfort zone challenges your brain’s adaptability—in a positive way. It also challenges your preconceived notions.Like many urban residents, living in one of the world’s greatest melting pots has intensified my narrow-mindedness. My grandmother considered going south of the river a sin. Similarly, I hold irrational biases about hospitals. I was born at St Thomas’s, and my three children were also born there. Am I committing an offense against the cycle of family life by moving to an area where the local hospital is—not St Thomas’s?It seems fitting that two phrases unrelated to south London perfectly encapsulate my feelings about this new chapter. I have always been fond of the Welsh word “hiraeth”—a word that defies translation but encompasses a universal human sentiment. It refers to nostalgia and longing for a place that no longer exists. In other words, it’s the exact feeling my child is experiencing when she says, “I want to go home.” She is still physically at home, but she knows change is coming.Then there is the evocative Scots expression “calf-grund.” It refers to the place of your birth and early life, a territory imprinted upon you, regardless of where you go afterward. It might be risky to liken anything about early parenthood to bovine experiences, but it is surprisingly accurate. The daily nursery run with my children has etched itself deeply into my neural pathways. For almost nine years, I have walked some part of that route almost every day. First with one baby, then two, then three, and even with a puppy. We’ve pushed strollers, balanced scooters, and dealt with all kinds of meltdowns (mine, theirs, and others’). And, of course, we’ve fallen into potholes.It is their “calf-grund.” It has become a part of my mental map. These streets have defined my life as an overwhelmed mother navigating south London, operating on autopilot in my familiar territory. And even though I’ll continue being an overwhelmed mother wandering through different streets in south London, they are not yet ingrained in me.Alice Fishburn is the FT’s opinion and analysis editorStay updated with the latest stories by following @FTProperty on X or @ft_houseandhome on Instagram.
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