I’ve lived in a lot of places. And the one thing they all have in common is that I arrived with the intention and knowledge that I would live in that place. Not so with my current locale. The crux of the immigration process is Limbo.
For so long I was here, but not really here. I was in a state of habitation, but not residence. I’ve long been a nomad, but I never felt more unsettled than when living in a place I wasn’t suppose to leave, without the knowledge of whether or not I could stay.
And then, with a swipe of a finger across my mobile device everything changed.
“Congratulations! You are now a permanent resident of Canada!”
When I read those words I could hear a chorus of party horns and imagined a cascade of red and white maple leaf confetti falling over me. I’m still in a state of shock that it finally happened. I can finally say I’m home here.
The relief is palatable, but like any yoke worn for a long time, after it’s removal, I can still feel it’s weight. There’s a remainder of energy that use to be anxiety that is now transforming back into inspiration for whatever comes next.
It’s an unexpected transformation. I didn’t expect to feel like I belong here now. I don’t have to have one foot on either side of the border now if I don’t want to.
I like when life offers unexpected twists and turns, and always look forward to new adventures. It makes me feel both lucky and blessed.