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December 1, 2022

Do you ever feel as if a piece of you belongs somewhere else?

Not heaven.

But here. On earth. As part of it but not as human.

It’s hard to explain.

I’ve felt this way about certain things since I can remember.

It always has to do with nature.

My parents driving cross country at night, me laying in the back seat and watching the stars hover above me in the dark.

Untouched snowfall right before the sun comes all the way up.

The tree in our school playground that is a violent mess of colors – the wind shaking crimson leaves into the air.

Standing in Rwanda as the rain poured down.

Watching the mist from Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe.

Looking out my bedroom window in Harare at the safari range next to us and wondering why nothing on earth compared to this.

Driving at sunset.

I want to hold these things in my hands and somehow never let them go.

And in each of these moments there is and has always been a tiny part of me that wishes I could be more a part of – whatever this is.

That I could keep driving into the sunset.

That I could fall into the pictures of Italy and Alaska and stay.

That I could climb into the tree and sit all day reading and watching the leaves fall.

The hardest part is – somehow these things always make me ache in a way that is full of sadness and wistful thinking. It’s never a fulfilled sense but one of wishing.

For something.

But I don’t know really what that is.

Maybe in my other life I was one of these things.

Or maybe I’m tied to them in ways the life I should have had would have played out.

So for now I just watch with the ache and longing of a beauty I can see but not hold – and I wonder if that’s tied into the things I miss so much.

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