Musings About Living In Transit.
For the past twenty years, I have moved around the world. Constantly.
And now I know that with every move, I leave a small piece of myself behind, safeguarded by the people and places that, for a while, become my home, my family, my refuge.
Leaving is never easy.
Yet, each place has meant the most extraordinary gift—an adventure, an endless journey of exploration, bravery, and stories worth telling.
I have learned to embrace the unknown, the foreign, and the different. I have seen the world through other people’s eyes as they have welcomed me with open arms, taken me in, and offered me their time, their joy, their hearts, knowing it was temporary all along.
And still, sometimes I wonder about the comfort of familiarity and what it would be like to see the beginning, the middle, and the end of stories—to witness my people’s lives for more than a chapter or two.
Sometimes, I wonder what it’s like to rest easy knowing you will pass by the same coffee places, walk the same roads, and gather with the same friends. No need for sad goodbyes, holding on to memories through watery eyes, driving somewhere for the last time.
Here is the thing when you have left and then returned; home is home but not home anymore.
Everything feels familiar and foreign at the same time. You are meant to be back where you belong, but do you belong?
Or have your wings outgrown your roots?
Have all the goodbyes broken you, but also somehow made you whole?
Maybe it’s okay to wander—to see everything for the first and the last time,
To make peace with being uncomfortable, perhaps it’s okay to feel happy and sad at the same time, loving what is, but also what was,
The world is too beautiful to be left unexplored; we are meant to experience its challenges, be inspired by its endless possibilities, and even struggle a little, because maybe, if we allow it, we might discover who we can become along the way.
Here is to venturing into the unknown,
Mariana
