"Happiness, most of the time, is just moments. Only a few moments. And most of the time, we lose them."
It has been a few days since I've written; it has been a few, strange days. It has been warm and the sun has lit up the city and we have woken up for the sunrise. It has been rainy and dreary and we have had to say some good-byes. I have met some new people. I have welcomed Spring. And right now, sitting glassy-eyed under brick ceilings, I have accepted change.
A few days ago, I hugged two roommates good-bye before one of them got on a plane back to the states and the other set off on a two week long traveling journey before going back to the states. It's bittersweet for them, I guess. Parting with this side of the world but also returning to their roots, to familiarity, to where they find themselves at home. One of them, I think, will stay home for a while and then find herself traveling again in the future. The other will marry the love of her life in just a few short months. I don't know where I'll be.
Yesterday on the metro, I thought about what is familiar to me. I thought about happiness and comfort. I didn't think of just one thing. I thought of my old apartment in Florida, drinking wine and dancing around alone in my room. I imagined myself there, not remembering all the details, not knowing what was happening in my life at the time - whether I had worked that day, if I was dating someone, if I had enough food in the fridge for the week. I only remember the way the afternoon sunlight flickered in my room and the way the music reverberated across the hall and me, dancing. In that moment, I didn't know. I didn't think of all the details.
A few days ago I sat with friends outside in the heart of the city at Barcelona's biggest market fest, Palo Alto. There was food, art, music, drinks, dancing, and there were people everywhere. As I sat and listened to a Spanish woman sing covers of familiar songs and watched everyone surrounding her, sitting in groups or alone, singing along, dancing, engulfed in the moment and laughing with everybody around them, and the sunlight beaming on all their faces, I thought about it again. Maybe this is happy. Maybe it's about moments; feeling alive in different parts of the world. Maybe these moments don't last, and life resumes, and the weight of expectation finds you - but at least you have this.
I have learned a lot about myself while I've been here, and I want to continue learning and growing, no matter where I am or where I end up. I think that the weight of the world and our burdens is an inevitable force that ultimately becomes a routine we don't even see coming. That's okay, too. This is the journey.
