Where am I? Where have I been? Where am I going? These questions keep smacking me in the face when I look up, open my eyes, and shake my head in total disbelief that I am where I am…and where I’ve been is in the past.
I was in Estonia 3 weeks ago. I was crying my not-so-tiny heart out on my friend’s shoulders in Latvia on August 23rd. I was in Dallas with my mom, my family, and friends not even 2 weeks ago. And here I am, September 15th, a week and half into living in New York, one week of work under my belt, and gearing up to leave for Washington D.C. for my first work-related trip tomorrow.
Where am I?
At a Starbucks in the Upper West Side.
But really: In some sort of whirlwind. That’s’ for sure. The thing is… I know who I am and what I’m doing more than ever…those two align seamlessly. And yet, the people surrounding me make it all feel like home. So when I look up at the tiny Spanish bodegas on my street corner in Brooklyn, or hear Russian whiz past me as I stroll through Central Park…it just all feels right. Like it was meant to be. Or rather, I made it be.
And I’ve gathered that I am where I am – not because of where I’ve been, but what I’ve done with where I’ve been, what I’ve seen, what I’ve felt.
I refuse to speak of Estonia in the past-tense, I’m not quite ready to let Estonia go back there. I’m holding onto it, trying to keep the memories active and buzzing – the people within arms-length. Or Skype-reach. I can’t, yet, dig deep into the year and all that it has meant to me – I want to sum it up and say “it’s meant everything”, but it filled certain holes, specific places that needed filling. Places that have made me more me. I am more me.
I feel good.
My heart literally tightens at the thought of the beautiful, giving, and fantastically special people in the Baltics. Thinking of them can turn a 45-minute subway ride into 5-minutes. And yes, hearing Russian in public spaces could not give me more joy than a CLIF bar and a vanilla latte. That’s big joy.
Getting messages from my kids saying, “We miss you”, “We love you”, “Our meeting was not the same without you” – Yeah, that kills me. These kids who are across the ocean, touching Russia, a ferry-ride from Finland, these kids think of me? They have to know how much I think of them – holding back my love for them was never an issue.
And these thoughts, these images hit me differently. Most times I’m sad knowing they’re so far away…other times, I’m just so happy and grateful we keep in touch with one another. And that I was able to experience the magical year I wanted so badly – so badly. And I got it. I made it mine, and here I am.
At a Starbucks in the Upper West Side.
One week of work under my belt. Not just any ordinary week of work; meaningful work. Work that intertwines with what I believe in right now, and what I wish to see in the world – with people who care, with people who are on the exact same page as me. That makes me feel good.
I’m on some sort of cloud. Not sure if it’s cloud-nine; but it’s a cloud a little higher than the Brooklyn bridge – I can see Estonia, I can see Brooklyn, I can see Manhattan. Dallas, you’re there too. My co-worker shared a “Jewish saying”, that sometimes your head can be where you are, but your soul might be slowly trailing behind, taking its’ time to catch up with your body. I believe that. It’s happening. Currently. Like, right now.
My soul is taking its’ time, and I’m not going to push it to go any faster.
Oh, but I have so many good stories of my first week in Brooklyn and Manhattan! I think, what I’ll do, is create another blog by the name of…
Where I start a fresh chapter/page/blog roll, accounting my stories of living in a place that is unlike any other place I’ve lived in – I’m talking way more culture shock than Kansas AND Estonia combined. This should be good. This should be interesting.
Thank you SO much for following me on JENSTONIA the past year! Your readership, commentary, and presence has meant so much to me – and it will continue to as I navigate my next journey in Brooklyn and Manhattan.
Love to all,
Jenstonia – forever Jenstonia
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