Unexpected Places
Love where we least expect it
It’s been a while since I’ve worked on a piece to share. Fingers that once flew free across the keyboard as I strung words together on park benches, ferries, high speed trains, buses, hammocks, and bleachers around the world have started to freeze. Like the way the morning frost stiffens a blade of grass, old but familiar fears have started to encroach after returning to the land where people know my name. I find myself stifling my voice in an attempt to fit in, to not rock the boat, to remain safely unseen. I do this until I realize the only thing more painful than putting oneself out there is to allow oneself to slowly disappear.
So today, I thaw the ice any way I can. I light a candle, I drink warm soup, I sit bathed in sunlight that streams through my window. I allow myself the gift of total absorption, putting aside the time is money urgency that has accelerated my heart and shallowed my breath. I give myself this space, however small, to do something that brings me joy. Is joy enough? Different people will give different answers. But in this moment, it is for me.
This post will look a bit different from the ones from before. Rather than trying to fit an old mold, I’d like to try something freer and rawer. During this rare moment of thawing, I’d like to share three stories about three people who mean an enormous amount to me. Three lessons about finding love in unexpected places.
The summer between sophomore and junior year of college, I did an engineering internship at a somewhat-in-the-middle-of-nowhere manufacturing site. I wouldn’t go as far as calling the city rural, but we lunched at simple seafood restaurants perched on sand and one of the interns paid about $300 for rent. Unassuming and spacious, it wasn’t exactly the kind of place that screams adventure and memories. I still remember the sound of the summer rain that poured down, the croak of the frogs that came out after warm days dissolved into quiet nights.
To say that summer changed my life is a serious understatement, but that’s a different story for a different day. That summer, I made a really precious friend. I’m talking about the kind of connection that comes along once in a blue moon. The kind that you look at, even 9 years later, and think How did I stumble across something so magical and pure? This is a friend who has watched me grow up, cheered me on through my triumphs, held my pain through my failures. A friend who has guided me towards choosing right over easy time and time again. Our friendship is always there in the background of my life, like a soft and gentle hum that fills my heart with peace and gratitude. Sometimes when life gets busy, I lose sight of how rare this truly is. Other times, when I reach out for support and am blessed with endless patience and compassion, I’m reminded of this priceless gift. It’s certainly not what I expected when I walked into that engineering lab with my steel-toed boots. But it’s what I received.
To my mentor, my friend, my loyal reader—thank you for always believing in me.
When I first moved to Boston, I got a short-term sublet that placed me a bit North of my dream city. During that time, I signed up for a Krav gym that I otherwise wouldn’t have joined. My first class, I accidentally attended the regular session rather than the beginner session. An hour later, I was an exhausted mess, and vowed to never return; there is only one reason I went back.
The other first-timer looked at me with a smile as he walked out the door, and said, “See you on Thursday!” And so, I dragged myself back on Thursday. We started the journey together, sweating bullets as the instructor yelled about push-ups and corrected our punching form. We progressed at our own paces, gaining strength and technique with each additional class. We chatted so effortlessly that we never even cared to ask for the other’s name. It was one of those connections that felt as if we’d already known each other for decades if not centuries.
Our friendship started as a gentle sprout, and has grown over time into what can only be described as a tree. Grounded, sturdy, something capable of withstanding strong winds of time and distance. I’m constantly inspired by his calm and resilience; he was one of the people who believed I could travel the world on my own, even at a time when I barely believed it myself.
He is in many ways the polar opposite of what I imagined my time in Boston would look like. And for that, I’m so grateful. I know deep down that the best things grow organically. What’s meant for you will stay. What’s not…will fade away.
Since returning from my travels, many people have asked me which country was my favorite. I always reply “Colombia” with a smile that lights up my face and my heart. I’m smiling now as I type this.
This was a country that I never intended to visit, but I found myself gravitating there after speaking with many travelers in Peru. I certainly didn’t expect to meet a soul sister while I was based in Medellin, but I thank the stars every day that I did.
It felt like a cosmic collision, that’s the best way to describe it. When you meet someone, and unequivocally know there’s something special about them. I’m glad I followed my intuition, because today she isn’t just a friend, she’s family. Never in my life have I met someone so selfless, humble, hardworking and kind-hearted. The fact that someone like her even exists still blows my mind from time to time. I know we’ll be in each other’s’ lives for the long haul, and I feel so lucky to have a seat in the arena of those who get to journey alongside her. As corny as this may sound, she makes me want to be a better person. In today’s chaotic and fast-paced world, an adult friendship that blooms so bright is exceptionally rare to find.
I recently discovered a Buddhist meditation group not far from where I grew up. This too came as a surprise, having wrongfully assumed that the East Coast would unveil a dearth of spirituality. This week, the conversation was about how humans carry preconceived notions of what they need to fill their life with in order to be happy. As if we have control over the outcome.
This morning, I chatted with a mentor about how little we truly know. We may think that a certain set of circumstances is exactly what we need to “make it” in life, only to be shocked when we’re guided towards something entirely different. I think a lot of suffering arises from the mismatch between how we expected something to go and how it actually unfolds. We get stuck when we zoom in on this discrepancy, believing that our way is the only way, and lament when handed anything that deviates from the original picture. We become so focused on what isn’t working, we forget to stop and ask ourselves— perhaps there may be a gift here as well.
I’m slowly learning to let go of assumptions and expectations when starting something new. Whether it’s walking into an engineering lab for the first time, signing up for a martial arts gym, or touching down in a brand-new country, I have three strong reminders that what’s meant for us will find its way over to us, one way or another. It may not be how we pictured, but that just makes it all the more precious.
“I do this until I realize the only thing more painful than putting oneself out there is to allow oneself to slowly disappear.” beautiful writing 🥺