A Whole New Land

Of all the soil that my feet have landed upon and of all the air I’ve breathed… Whether across the Atlantic or the Pacific, over or under, amongst mountain and wood, brick and neon, or sand and sea… I often feel the journey that has most ignited my mind and unleashed my heart has happened here.

One day can hold a million pauses that take the air from my lungs. The thrill of a new horizon can look like a little one spinning around the room singing a Christmas carol. The uncertainty of an unclear map can look like navigating bedtime tears.

The rush of a new street and the loneliness of an unknown language can be found in their eyes.

I’ve never added up all the time that I’ve spent on airplanes, trains, boats, taxis, and subways… but I’m sure it would amount to something sizable. Though perhaps what is more sizable is the amount of time I’ve spent sitting on the side of a bathtub, scrubbing the dirt out of a mop of hair and talking about superheroes. What is perhaps more sizable, is the amount of time I’ve spent creeping out of a bedroom and praying the door won’t creak too loudly when it shuts. What is perhaps more sizable, is the number of times I have wiped tears and kissed bruises.

The number of boarding passes I’ve held may equate to the hours spent folding basket after basket of clothes. And the lump in my throat at takeoff may be akin to the ache in my chest when I realize a pair of pants I’ve folded a hundred times are suddenly too small for legs that grow taller every day.

Those legs will have travels of their own. Someday they will unceremoniously walk out my door while an arm gives a wave and a voice promises to call.

And I do not doubt that we will share adventures too. We will go far and wide. We will feel and see and taste it all. And it will leave it’s mark. It will stretch us. It will change our minds and paint our souls. We will greet the world through many windows.

But it struck me- in the middle of cutting paper snowflakes and hanging popsicle stick ornaments- that this journey has held as much mountain air and market noise.

Here, every memory is a chisel shaping their future selves while the dust of everything that I thought I knew gathers on the floor.

Today, staring at stars suspended in pine…with the sound of sleigh bells, giggles, and cries bouncing from wall to wall… I saw a whole new land.