Eternally an Immigrant

Sometimes I think I have a tendency to do things on autopilot, without thinking too deeply. Something perhaps a bit cold. People looking from the outside might think I dive headfirst, full of emotions, but honestly, I jump into the dark more with a “let’s just live and see what happens” attitude than with overwhelming passion. But what does that have to do with the theme of this text? Well, the fact that I’m about to celebrate 10 years of moving to another country — of immigrating — fits precisely into this category of “let’s see what happens” without overthinking. Reckless? Maybe.

My immigration wasn’t because I wanted to live in another country or because I wanted to work abroad. It wasn’t because I needed to leave a place with no opportunities, and it certainly wasn’t about seeking so-called “freedom.” I immigrated to live a love that was just beginning to bloom, to see where it would lead. And so, we return to the first paragraph. Reckless? Maybe.

I believe that when you immigrate for a reason like this, you’re left with the feeling that you’ll always be an immigrant. That my heart, my history, my culture, my roots, my language, my accent, and my soul will always belong to my home country. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been away, what documents I have, or how much I adapt. Once an immigrant, forever an immigrant.

Yes, that's me!

With each passing year in the United States, I feel more Brazilian. And with each year here, I miss my homeland even more. I don’t want to get into the debate about which place is better. Not at all, because every country has its own issues, its little things to complain about. Oh, of course, they had to be Brazilian, American, Swedish, Jamaican, Polish, Korean... and so on.

Will this feeling of not belonging ever go away? I think probably not. And honestly, I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. I just keep moving forward, feeling like an eternal immigrant.

Goodbyes

I am wrapping up this summer with a series of goodbyes. Goodbye to the sunny days—though they might return unexpectedly, brightening our hearts once more. Farewell to fresh produce, especially the juiciest blackberries from the farm near my house that were available throughout July and August. Saying goodbye to longer days and the chance to spend more time outdoors. A "see you soon" to the film I just finished shooting. Goodbye to dear ones, including my aunt, who unexpectedly left us at the beginning of September.

If you find goodbyes difficult, consider reframing them. I’ve never been a nostalgic person; I believe there's a time for everything. When I say goodbye, I also sense a welcoming, even if it’s a hard "see you soon." It’s a welcome to new opportunities and doors that open as others close. Then, we refresh, restart, or continue from where we left off. Say goodbye and, right after, welcome!

Welcome to the life that continues, to the cycle that begins anew, and to the ongoing journey. Goodbyes are important—they teach us this lesson. And if you need to cry, do it! Let your soul and heart be cleansed and open them to new welcomes. Let them come!

Just for Today

Happiness is all that we take with us. This small excerpt from the song "Bem-Te-Vi," composed by my aunt Lucina, her partner Lulli, and my father, Mário Avellar, has always struck a chord with me. Happiness is all that we take from this life. Whether destiny knocks on the door or sneaks up on us, as it did to me two years ago when I received the diagnosis of an aggressive breast cancer, this phrase reminds me again that sorrows, disappointments, and angers pale in comparison to moments of pure happiness.

But this topic also makes me ponder the finitude of life. In advance, I apologize for broaching this subject again. Aging, time, death. There's actually a subject that the majority of the world's population avoids talking about at all costs, but that everyone, without exception, regardless of social class, gender, favorite team, or zodiac sign, will experience: death. The so-called "grim reaper" seems distant before turning 50. At least it was for me. As I approach the halfway mark of my existence, with less than three years to go, and after experiencing the scare of cancer, it's something I constantly grapple with.

This reminder of death has two paths. Depression, being the first. Thinking that I have less time to accomplish things I haven't even started yet. That my body seems unable to keep up with my mind anymore. And even my mind is showing signs of weariness. Depressing. The other side is precisely the happiness side. Quite ambiguous, I know. This other path is exactly the opposite of the former. This is where thoughts of still having about 50 years to build everything I haven't started yet come in. That everything I've done for my body and mind in these past 47 years is paying off since I'm aging well. That the eagerness to learn more and more keeps me alive and vibrant.

Let's do this. Following the AA principles and affirming that "just for today" I'll choose the path of happiness. Tomorrow we'll reaffirm, and so on every day, grateful for the experience gained, for the years lived, and for many more to come. Just for today, I choose happiness.