I’ve drafted eighty-four blog posts about this transition back to the U.S., but none of them really work. They don’t capture it.
I wrote about the “Miss and Won’t Miss” list I’ve made, and how so many of the things are just different sides of the same coin (except my landlady. that gal’s such a goddang treat, she gave me hugs and kisses on the cheek when she gave me my security deposit back yesterday. she’s only in the “miss” category).
I’ve written, reflected and meditated on this transition so much in the last week or so, both with people and solo, that I think I’m just ready. Don’t get me wrong – there are tears that will undoubtedly be shed (and have already been shed) over this transition.
But right now I’m incredibly grateful for having had this year and for what it’s brought me. Mostly for durian, but for lots of other things, too. (okay, maybe durian’s not the *top* of the list, but seriously, people, there’s a reason they call it the king of fruits.)
The other prominent feeling? Curiosity. So incredibly curious about what this next chapter will bring, what everything will feel like, and how I’ll perceive everything. I’m curious about this current balcony time with the sky pinking up. About handing over the keys to my apartment. About the upcoming trip to the airport. About the flights back. About seeing family again. About moving back to Duluth. Each step, right now, feels like a new adventure I’m about to undertake, even though it’s going “back.”
So, sitting here filled with gratitude and curiosity, waiting for my regular corner place to open up to go get some noodles, I’m realizing that the noodles are really just a perfect metaphor. They’re the things that are right on our block that bring us joy, that are so simple they’re beautiful, that cost barely anything but seem invaluable, and that can best be enjoyed surrounded by smiling faces.
Go get your noodles. Because I’m gonna go get mine.