Saudades

If you speak more than one language, you might understand that words exist in one language that are impossible to express with the same significance in another language. Saudades is one of those words. It means: longing for or missing something or someone. But to say, “I miss you.” in English is not the same as saying, “To com saudades de voce!” in Portuguese. There’s a power of passion in the word saudades. Its connotation is different, stronger. I am going to feel saudades imensa (immense longing) for many things once I board my plane for Montgomery on July 2.
Here are a few:
Ipanema Beach and Barraca do Nildo (there’s truth to the Cheers theme song)

Brazilian Music and live Samba (especially Samba do Chapeu at Bola Preta.)

Monkies and toucans playing in the trees outside my window
The serenade of the beach vendors singing their respective products’ names…matte ou lemao, picole, queijo coalho.
Walking through the street with an open can of beer (there’s truly something liberating about being able to openly drink in public, like "you're a grown-up, you can be responsible")
Carnaval Blocos (despite the risks of random pick-pocketers)
 

LAPA
Picanha and farofa
Living in havaianas
Botecos
Acai!
The Carioca jeito (The Rio way)
Living bilingual
Girl’s WeekendS in BUZIOS!!

Of course these are just a few and the list does not include the PEOPLE who I will miss more than the THINGS (except the girls' weekends one, that's TOTALLY about PEOPLE!).  I can’t really write about people because that’s usually what makes the tornado come. (You know who you are!)

The past week, as I have sorted and re-sorted through my “stuff” deciding what will go with me on the plane (this has been easier for Sierra since she is giving away almost everything in anticipation of being able to buy a complete, new wardrobe--hmmm---that kid's pretty smart), what will go in the shipment, and what will be left behind, I have been an emotional tornado. The anticipation of this move is a constant current blowing me in the direction of accomplishment. The saudades come in, change the direction of the current, causing a funnel cloud that leaves me in tears.  I am not sad, don’t misunderstand me. I do not regret anything about my decision. I am in fact ecstatic to start this new chapter, to make a difference, to work hard, to be stimulated, to create, to forge new friendships. And at the same time, I am looking forward to many elements of re-acclimating to life in the land of milk and honey; such as:

Target (hehe)
Organized roads with (generally) drivers who respect the lanes
Central Air
A new car (oh yeah baby!)
An amazing educational opportunity for Sierra
A smaller commute
More time with my daughter
Time to write
Home Depot! (refer to this earlier post to understand why)
Time to play my guitar again

So what is it that I'm really thinking as I pack and organize and sort and purge and repack and feel the anxiety created by living in transition (I do NOT understand how hoarders do it, seriously, my house is a complete disaster, and I can't stand it. How do people live surrounded by boxes and stuff all the time? It really is a mental disorder that requires intervention. I feel for them. Sincerely.)

I am: Invigorated! Blessed! Grateful! My friend Diane recently said, "If there isn't a little bit of fear in your decision to make a move in your life, it maybe isn't the right decision." I think I agree with her. As an educator for 17 years, I believe that in that moment of discomfort, where we are right on the edge of what we know and what we don't know, is where the most learning takes place. 

I am invigorated by the unknown. Being taken outside of my comfort zone is turning on all of my neurons.

I am blessed. "How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."

I am grateful.