Longing

I have experienced longing in many forms—but the most painful has been longing for loved ones. Whether during the isolation of the pandemic, the dislocation of migration, the quiet loneliness of pregnancy, or the many moves across cities and countries, the ache remained.

I longed for simple things—phone calls, voices, presence. I felt jealousy toward those who had their loved ones just a street away, or a city apart—not separated by borders, and oceans. I missed my sister with a depth that words often failed to hold.

My experience moved through waves—rage, anger, sadness—circling back again and again as I tried to understand the silences and distances that had grown between us. I questioned why my primary family dissolved so completely.

But over time, I have come to accept even the hardest absences. In that acceptance, I’ve begun to learn the quiet, powerful lessons of release. Though I still carry a soft, sacred longing inside me, I hold it gently now—with respect. It continues to teach me about love, impermanence, and resilience. (Masa)