Time moves in a straight line https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belongingness most days. We follow along because that’s what we’ve always done. No questions asked, no deeper thoughts required. Just going from one moment to the next, without trying to define anything yet. So, welcome to “One Foot Here One Foot There : And Both Feels Right”.

Certain beginnings may seem unassuming, their simplicity deceptive. There are no grand signs or loud signals—just a quiet start that whispers its existence. Yet, within that lies the potential for something extraordinary.

To know the deets of jet lagged but joyful entry into Canadian territory, click on Jet Lagged But Joyful: Our Entry Into Canadian Territory – Wander, Feast & Thrive

And Both Feels Right : One Foot Here One Foot There

We didn’t expect anything when we first arrived. We were just trying to adjust. One day at a time. One thing at a time. Weather that felt too cold. Streets that felt too silent. People who minded their own business. We thought we would just manage and pass through it. But the place stayed. And we stayed too.

Three years is not a small amount of time. Slowly, this land settled inside us. The rain that felt endless started feeling steady. The cherry blossoms felt like a soft promise. The snow fall felt quiet, almost like the world had turned the volume down. Even the snow storms had a strange kind of presence.

Fall felt like a beautiful painting that we could admire forever. Niagara Falls served as a gentle reminder to take a deep breath and embrace the moment. Life here was serene, free from the stress of urgency or the need to prove ourselves. We cherished our weekends for cleaning and savored the long, quiet pauses that filled our evenings.

Traveling on public transport, we find ourselves lost in our thoughts, reaching out to family back home through WhatsApp, trying to align our time zones. The ache of missing them tugs at our hearts, drawing us back to familiar patterns. We long for the comforting noise and the beautiful mess of our shared lives. Yet, here we stay, held by an invisible thread that connects us to something greater.

We often found ourselves grumbling about the weather year after year, yet there was a part of us that eagerly anticipated its return. Over time, we quietly embraced this place, not fully aware of the moment when our hearts began to shift. It didn’t demand our approval; it simply settled in, becoming a part of us.

A Poem For This : I didn’t call it mine. But it sat beside me anyway. Like a chair pulled closer without asking. Like a hand resting quietly near mine. No claim.
No announcement. Just presence. And I noticed it only when I had to leave.

Going Back Feels Different Now : And Both Feels Right

Going back feels different now. There is happiness, yes—familiar faces, familiar sounds, and the mess that meant home. But there is also a pull from the place we are leaving, a big ache we cannot name. Now we know what quiet, slow days, clean skies, and wide roads feel like, and what it means to not be surrounded all the time.

Returning home signifies embracing a life that moves at a quicker pace. The warmth lingers throughout the year, and the streets never seem to slow down. There are no delicate cherry blossoms or vibrant fall colors to appreciate, only the rush of metro trains, the urgency of life, and the symphony of city noise. Yet, amidst this whirlwind, there’s an undeniable sense of belonging and the comforting embrace of family that resonates deeply within.

Both places possess a distinct beauty that gently tugs at our hearts, inviting us to nurture them with our love and care. We cherish them deeply; our souls long for their warmth, and our hearts hesitate to choose just one, instead opening themselves to grow and revel in the magic of both worlds.

It can be so bewildering at times, wanting to both stay and leave, to crave silence yet seek out the noise, to delight in the beauty of blossoms while also enjoying lively festivals, to relish the peace of calm weekends and the vibrant energy of noisy family lunches. It’s perfectly okay to feel both these conflicting emotions at once.

And though a definitive answer might elude us, the truth is that you can stand passionately in two worlds, where each foot finds its place, and miraculously, both can resonate with an invigorating sense of belonging.