[H] Truth Thursday | I Am Here

Distance is a thing that cannot be put into words. It cannot be fully drawn, mimed, or choreographed. It is not a space that can be measured, seen, smelt, tasted, or touched. It is felt.

"I am here." I whisper to the crying child on my lap. "I'm here!!" I shout from the back of the classroom. "I'm right here," I remark as I walk out of the bathroom stall.

It's funny how we are constantly having to make our presence known. I need to assure my little lovelies that I am here, that I am listening, that I am on their side. I have to declare my attendance to my professors, coaches, and employers. I need to announce my location to the people who depend on me.

We are here. We make it known. We say hello and then goodbye. We acknowledge each new presence and it's departure. We are here. And then we're there. And then we're gone.

Distance is my cloak; my shadow. It covers me in the dark. It hides me from the light. It's a step ahead and a step behind. It has followed me through 12 moves in 21 years. It connects 3 languages, cultures, and families. It has been my companion longer than any breathing person. I feel it everyday.

I feel it when we sing the national anthem - whether in Vietnam, Philippines, or America. I feel it when I hear their hard vowel sounds that I cannot, for the life of me, seem to replicate. I feel it when they talk of memories, of old music and shows and books I never knew. I feel it when they use words like 'sexy' 'foreigner' 'big' 'traditional' 'liberal.' I feel it when I'm lost. I feel it when I'm confused.

So I say, "I am here." Not only for the sake of the child that is crying in my arms, the professor at the front of the class, or the friends that are waiting for me. I say it for me. I am here to open my heart and feel pain and love and comfort. I am here to open my mind to learn something new. I am here to experience life and let it change me. I am here to make connections. I am here to live. I am here to love. I am here to listen. I am present.

I feel my presence more strongly than my distance. With every new connection I make, I feel my presence grow. Sometimes I miss the cold assurance of my distance. It is simple, it is safe, there is no pain, only yearning. My presence is terrifying. It opens me up to a sea of pain, grief, anger, injuries, and heartbreak. But it also allows joy, peace, pleasure, love, and goodness. It is a risky choice.

Distance will always be calling me out to the safe realm of disconnect. Some days it's a giant tug out alone at sea. But I am tethered back by the passions I've found in this life. At times, I am tethered back by the pain. And yet I am anchored in love. Love is dangerous. Love is vulnerable. But in Love, I am home.

So here I am. Can you feel me?

-H