There are several blogs I’ve wanted to get out of my system as of late and it has been difficult to write them all down for posting. I will, however, just get this out of my head and heart.

The moment you choose to live abroad and to take on this crazy life-journey, you automatically begin to process things. First you begin to process the necessary (often practical) things; for example, downsizing: what you will sell, throw out, pack in a box, donate, give away, etc. There comes a beauty and release with cutting down your ‘things’ to those of value and importance and undetermined! And yes, I am certain I have a box or two of ‘undetermined’ at my parents’ home.

Next, you begin the emotional processing of relationships, sentiments, and realities. For example, you realize you are leaving your 7 1/2-month pregnant sister and won’t get to see the little one for the first time until he is about 9 months old. You kiss and hug your aging grandparents with no certainty of health and wellness. Or maybe you only realize how great your working relationship was when you’ve spent your final nights in the guest room because you’ve become family instead of just colleagues.

By now you’ve done the studying, reading, training and processing only to wake up in your new city of 1,000,000 somewhere in SEA where you have to learn a whole lot of NEW (language, culture, etiquette, driving, etc.)

Where are the two big words? Well, the first arises when you are randomly walking down the street and that smell, oh that smell, what it is? I am trying to place that smell! Wait, it’s the exact same smell as my grandparents’ house on the North Pen. You are stopped dead in your tracks and you do whatever you can to no burst in to tears. You may even look to see if Nan is there in the kitchen whipping up her tried and true recipe. But no, it’s not even close. But that scent!

Or it is that moment in a conversation with your new expat friend when you blurt out something that she should know. But wait, you realize that it was the inside joke with your sister back in Canada. Why isn’t your new friend laughing or understanding? You were SURE you had that conversation here but then you realize, it was home in your sister’s heart and mind.

My un-favorite, when you bake the perfect black-bottom muffins that taste exactly like your mom’s. And you take a bite and wish with every fiber of your being that you were sitting in her kitchen, watching her bake…. The flavor just brings you back.

Nostalgia. It sweeps in quickly, unexpectedly, fiercely…. And it sets your back.

Then the other BIG word.

Today I will not be going to Wal-Mart so I have to learn to adapt to what I can find in my local store. Today is his first Christmas so we make it as great as possible with what we can, even if it means spending more money to ship a Christmas tree from Ikea then it was to purchase. Tomorrow we may have a power outage so I plan my meals accordingly. We know that we know that we know how things can and will function, so we press on.

Pragmatism. It slaps you in the face, keeps both feet planted, snaps your back to reality, keeps nostalgia at bay, helps you survive day by day (when necessary).

This life will be a balance of the two. Both having their rightful place, allowing the other their space and time. My part, however, is letting both be balanced in my life because I cannot be overwhelmed by nostalgia or I will fail…. Neither can I allow only pragmatism because I am, after all, an emotional, sentimental human being. So let balancing continue!