Leaving a life behind - Thoughts of an immigrant

There are moments when I feel a very deep silence in my heart, and I miss my life as it was before, I miss being in my homeland, I miss the "comfort", I miss my friends, I miss my mother and my girlfriend, I miss those old places, of a desolate and dead country, which looks like a postcard of a place devastated by a hurricane of gray dust, valuable memories surrounded by a nostalgic atmosphere, where I had to find a way to be happy with the few, less than necessary, and hell yeah I did learn that.

I can't avoid finding, in every corner, in every flash of light going through a pair of bars on the way from one street to another; a reason to remember that place I left behind.

I cannot help but find in each note, in each chord, a reminder of what I left behind in order to venture in the search for a new identity and a more transcendental happiness.

It's hard to leave behind, it's hard to find yourself one day and accept that you're not the same anymore... and that you don't even know who you are. But it's a necessary process to grow and move forward, it's part of life.

If I have learned something after immigrating and other processes that I lived thanks to that, it's that you have to accept the impermanence of things and you have to fall more than a couple of times to know what you' re made of, that pain is part of your life, and it's necessary to experience it to value it and live it deeply.

I wake up at 5 or 6 am, so I feel that I'm an early adopter of life, in a winter like this, in the silence, cold and darkness of its mornings, I like to think about the world and its people, I think about how many of them are still asleep, I think about how many dreams they have and have decided to leave them behind out of fear.

I wonder how many people are close to death or serious situations that make them rethink their purpose in life, and I reflect on how much repentance dwells in the souls of most old people.

And the truth is that, for me, there is no such thing as leaving a life behind, or at least not at all, we are who we decide to be in the moment, identity is just an illusion.

I have learned that life is a gift, and that the circumstances are just as good or bad as the mentality with which we face them, I have learned to thank, in every breath, in every step, for being alive.

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Posted from my blog with SteemPress : http://www.joeduque.ml/2019/07/13/leaving-a-life-behind-thoughts-of-an-immigrant/

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