on emotions and language.

If you’ve spent any time with me over the last 30 years, you know I am full of emotions. I experience so many moments of deep deep (tear inducing) laughter. I am the first to cry at a wedding. I love to celebrate the happy moments – new life, promotions, moves – both in my own life and in the lives of people around me. I smile at the small things as I walk down the street in a new city or as I make connections with new friends (read: strangers). I am always the first person to cry in a disagreement. I can be quick to feel frustrated and I am easily offended. I really know how to FEEL things.

And many times I feel frustrated by this fact in itself; that I feel things so deeply. And then I am reminded by sweet people in my life of the blessing that it is to experience the world in this way. I’m still working on loving that part of me.

Based on how deeply I feel, you can imagine how much feeling I’ve done in the last two months (WHAT?!). There have been so many highs, so many happy tears, so many beautiful moments and concurrently so many tough moments, too. And in living at least 90% of my day in Portuguese, I’ve been reflecting so much on the relationship between emotions and language. It’s been an eye-opening, frustrating conversation with myself that I am trying to have from a place of self-love.

I am currently experiencing a HUGE disconnect between my emotions and my language. Here’s an example. I was invited to a churrasco (Brazilian BBQ) last week and I just couldn’t pull it together to go. I’ve been pretty darn good about saying yes to every invitation as I know that’s the only way I’m going to meet people here. But last weekend, I just didn’t want to go meet a bunch of new people. My introvert side caught up with me and even just thinking about putting myself in a social situation put me over the edge. It was nothing against my friend or the nice people I’m sure I would have met. I just didn’t have it in me. And then here’s the frustrating part – the reason I’m writing this post. I just couldn’t find the words to tell my friend who had extended the invite that I just wasn’t up for it. I simply said “I’m sorry, I think I’m going to stay home today.” And that just kills me. I wanted to explain why, I wanted to tell her that I’d still like to be invited to the next barbecue, that sometimes last minute invites are hard for me to accept, that I needed the afternoon to regroup by myself. But I couldn’t find the right words. And that left me feeling a bit empty. Like I wanted to say more – I wanted to explain my emotions.

I’m happy to report that I’ve since redeemed myself and spent this past Saturday afternoon at a churrasco. I even (gasp!) enjoyed myself and I’m proud of myself for getting out there. And then on the topic of emotions – I’m now stuck in a place where I don’t have the words to properly express how appreciative I am of my friend for inviting me into her home to meet people who have been lifelong friends of hers. I don’t have the words to express how fun it is to see how thousands of miles across the world, I can chat with strangers, have shared interests, eat delicious food, and belt out the words to Hey Jude. So I simply said today “Thank you so much for the invite. I had a great time.” It’s just not quite enough.

The best way I can explain this disconnect between my emotions and my current Portuguese language skills is that I feel like a three year old. Full of feelings and emotions and knee deep in experiencing the world and yet short on the actual words to explain all of the waves running through their brain. Have you ever stopped to think about why babies and toddlers cry and laugh so much? It’s because they have not yet developed the language skills to ask for what they need, to process their emotions, to share in their joy with those around them. So that’s how I’ll be here for a while, like a Brazilian toddler, still figuring out all the right words to express myself with those around me.

I know in good time I will have a better ability to process my emotions and share my feelings in Portuguese. Until then, I know there will be more tears (both happy and sad). And for now, I’ll come back here to explore my feelings, I’ll write notes to myself in my phone. I’ll scribble out my feelings on my to-do list. I’ll call those of you at home who have been so supportive and loving and willing to process things with me (in English).

And I will continue to take comfort in knowing that we all, in our own way, are still learning our own language of emotions.

até mais,

mariah

on the “in between”.

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

on life in limbo

As I write this, I’m sitting in my hotel room, eating cold leftover pizza from Sunday night and some trail mix leftover from my flight. Because choosing a place to eat, ordering an Uber, trying to figure out the ‘rules’ of the restaurant, sitting alone at the bar and finding something that hits the spot just isn’t in the cards tonight. And that’s okay! Just don’t ever let anyone (myself included) convince you moving to a new country is glamorous, because it absolutely is not.

Lots of things are in limbo this week. And this life, if we’re being honest, right?. Let me share a few things that stick out:

1. The fantasy football app still works on my phone here in Brazil (2-0 baby), but my banking app won’t let me log in and the exel energy website doesn’t want to let me cancel services for my apartment in Denver. I’m still getting notifications for sales at Target and yet I’m trying to fill my google maps with places to try in my new home. I haven’t been able to sign up for local delivery apps because I don’t have a Brazilian cell phone number yet but I’m learning to live in the world of Celsius and military time. And none of this limbo is life altering, it’s just… noticeable.
2. My body is still trying to live in the mountain time zone but the sun is setting at 6PM here in the state of Sao Paulo this week. Thankfully, it’s only a 3 hour difference. But still, I’ve had a nap every day since landing here in Brazil.
3. My brain is still thinking in English, I’m writing and reading in English and yet everything around me is in Portuguese. At dinner on Sunday night, I started reading ‘An Onion in my Pocket’ and my waitress asked me what I was reading. ‘I’m reading a book in English, but it translates to ‘Uma Cebola em Minha Bolsa’. She said, oh, you’re practicing English? I chuckled. ‘No, I’m practicing Portuguese, but I’m reading a book in English, still’. Did I really trick her into thinking I was a native speaker learning English? I must have just misunderstood. This morning, my Uber driver said “Congratulations on your Portuguese, you’re doing great”. And then just a few hours later one of the waiters at my new local bakery looked at me like I was an absolute nutcase when I asked him to repeat what he said because I didn’t understand (he was just asking if he could take my plate away). I think it’s because I quite literally asked him “Can you speak again?” Like a freaking two year old would say.

It feels fitting that this week (tomorrow) will officially mark a change of the seasons. It’s the first day of Spring here in Brazil. The first day of Fall at home in the United States. To me, the shift into a new season is a gentle reminder that we are a) often (read: always) in transition and b) are never alone in transition. Look around you today. We are all experiencing change. We’re just experiencing change in different ways. For some, spring is a rebirth. For others, it marks the end of a favorite season. For some, the shift to fall is painful and dark and for others, it is peaceful and calming and a reset going into a season of joy. I think the same could be said of all life transitions; some are easy, some are hard, some are slow, and others are rapid. All are beautiful. Heraclitus once said “The only constant in life is change”. And boy, wouldn’t life be a little more beautiful if we could appreciate the limbo a little more? Promise me you’ll try along with me?

abraços,
mariah