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 looked like a painting we never got tired of. Niagara Falls felt like something that kept reminding us to breathe. Life here was calm. No hurry. No rush to prove anything. Cleaning only on weekends. Long pauses in the evenings.

Traveling through public transport, just sitting with our own thoughts. Talking to family back home through WhatsApp. Matching time zones. Missing them, old patterns. Missing noise and the mess. But still staying here, because something held us.

We used to complain about the weather every year. Yet we waited for the same weather to return again. We slowly grew into this place, without realizing when the shift happened. It didn’t ask us. It just took root.

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 means stepping into a faster life. Heat that stays most of the year. Streets that do not pause. No cherry blossoms or fall foliage to admire. Only metro trains, hurry, and noise. But also family and familiarity in the bones.

Both places possess an undeniable essence and draw us in with irresistible force, demanding our devotion. We cherish both, our souls ache for them, and our hearts refuse to choose, instead expanding to embrace the beauty of two worlds.

It is confusing sometimes. Wanting to stay and leave, to have silence and noise, to enjoy blossoms and crowded festivals, to experience calm weekends and loud family lunches. Feeling both.

And there is no clear answer. Just the truth: One foot here. One foot there. Both feel right.