being here

Drums. Dancing lions. Pre-schoolers immersed in an English speaking world. Red envelopes. A mix of eastern and western faces and perspectives lighting up the same space. An international community. A shared language. People who are slowly impressing themselves into the crevices of familiararity in my mind.

My soul no longer reaches because of her longing, dreams beacuse of her pending destination, cries because she may never love something. She’s there. She loves. And today she realized this.

Because amidst the beating drums, dancing colors, and friendly voices, she saw something else, heard a different voice. And it gave her peace.

Not a peace that was yet to come or a promise that needed time to become beautiful. It was a peace that she was meant to have, that would always be hers.


The peace of arriving.
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