1 January 2024, and I’m home.
This morning, I could already feel the warmth of Allah’s blessings. I woke up to my mom calling everyone to pray Fajr. Wherever she is, there’s no such thing as a slow morning. Wake up at 5 am. Tea ready at 6. Prepare breakfast together, eat at 7. Then some morning walks. No holiday could stop her.
Amid the noise of Subuh at home, I feel content. Stepping outside, I hear my neighbor’s chickens, the mountain breeze, the somewhat cool air. Even the trees seemed patient, just standing there and waiting for what comes next. And isn’t that what we all wonder in life? What comes next?
I’ve reached the halfway point of my first year with my daughter in Medan. I love our evenings together, when she shares her stories from school and opens up about her feelings. But it hurts when I can’t leave work early to spend that time with her. When she said that I was too busy, I felt like a failure. A flood of “what-ifs” came to mind. It reminded me how much I still need to trust myself in the choices I make. This is something both of us need to keep working on, finding a balance.
Because to be honest, my life in recent years have changed quickly. Work, goals, self-beliefs, even my hobbies look different compared to a few years ago. My daughter keeps growing, the idea of “home” keeps shifting, and family roles and traditions don’t feel the same anymore. It’s like I’m stuck in a gray zone, somewhere between what was and what’s next.
In that in-between, my heart often says “at least you have this” while my mind argues “you could do better.” It feels like slow motion in the middle of timelapse. A glitch. I believe there’s a steady ground in this “in between” season. I just haven’t found it yet.
