Knowing you are right where you are supposed to be, and also knowing that inherently means you are missing things somewhere else. Do you know the feeling?
I’ve been feeling it a lot this week. As I settle into my apartment here in São José dos Campos. As I cook more in my own kitchen. As I do my laundry. As I try and create some normalcy in my life here. As I search for my favorite grocery store in town. As I go on a quest for the best pizza, the best cappuccino, and the best place to buy cleaning supplies (TARGET I MISS YOU). I am so happy and I also miss things, okay? I can feel both. You can too.
The “In Between”.
It’s the knot in my stomach when I see photos of fall in Colorado and Minnesota and I know exactly how the season makes me feel. And I miss it. I can feel the cool breeze on my skin, I can smell the newly crisp air. I can hear the leaves, fluttering in the wind and crunching beneath the soles of runners in Wash Park, one of my favorite places in the month of October. And at the same time, I feel a different shift in the seasons myself. I notice the cloud cover slowly fading away, the daily afternoon rainstorms shortening, and the evening chill slightly less noticeable. I notice the warmth of the sun coming through the kitchen in the morning. And I delight in the transition to Spring here in the southern hemisphere.
It’s the tug at my heart when I hear a song on my Spotify playlist and it instantly reminds me of someone, somewhere. It’s the feeling when a song reminds me of a season of life. And the next minute a song matching my current season of life plays and again, I am transported. It’s the back and forth. The reflecting and the anticipation.
It’s the knot in my stomach when I receive a call from a familiar voice. A voice that speaks English. It’s the Facetime calls with family, friends, and even coworkers who know something (read: anything) about me. The “In Between” is the longing for familiarity and also the excitement about people, places, and things that are right here in front of me. I want it all. The connection, the comfort, and also the challenge and the desire to get to know new people and a new language and culture.
It’s the knot in my stomach when someone invites me to something with their friends or family. The wanting to go, the wanting to accept, the wanting to be seen, known, and to be welcomed. And the feeling of not wanting to need an invite. The feeling of not wanting to be a burden. The hoping that invites are not just for pity. The hope that I won’t show up too early or too late or dressed in the wrong attire. And the simultaneous memory of times when I’ve been able to be the one to do the inviting. The joy that comes with welcoming new people into my sphere. The excitement of sharing stories, culture, and language.
I am balling as I write this, by the way. Heavy, salty, wet tears dripping down my freshly showered face onto my freshly laundered shirt. And I turn to the mirror beside me and cry/laugh some more as I think about all of this “In Between”. And I allow myself to feel it. To feel it all deeply. I don’t know any other way. I know I am lucky to feel an “In Between”. To have so many places and so many people that I love.
Daily, I am reminding myself of the beauty and the brokenness of this adventure. And how they can both exist, simultaneously.
Will you do something for me today? Will you let yourself notice your own “In between”? Let yourself sit with it. Accept it. And maybe even appreciate it just a little bit?
From the “In Between” – Mariah
one small grain 