Rooted in the In-Between

The process of immigration places you in a perpetual duality—sometimes even a multiplicity—of existence. You are caught between staying connected to your origins and trying to find belonging by growing new roots in your new home. This duality carries a constant struggle: finding balance between letting go and holding on enough to maintain an inner equilibrium. Sometimes we grieve the losses; sometimes we celebrate the gains; and sometimes we do both at once. Over time, the line between loss and gain blurs, and we learn to live with these contrasting emotions simultaneously. I often think of us as pendulums, swaying back and forth as we try to find balance at the intersections of our existence. Yet for a pendulum to move effectively, it must remain hooked to its focal point. That focal point is what keeps us sane amid constant movement and chaos. It grounds us, reminding us of what truly matters, while still giving us the flexibility to return to center when we sway too far in either direction. For immigrants, that focal point is the connection between the mind and the heart. The mind keeps us grounded in reason, helping us navigate unfamiliar systems and challenges, while the heart anchors us in belonging, love, and memory. This focal point is what keeps us whole. Lose it, and we risk drifting too far into disconnection from both where we came from and where we are. It is this anchor that allows us to navigate the in-between spaces without losing ourselves completely. Living between worlds is not a flaw or a failing; it is a form of resilience. It demands adaptability without total surrender. It asks us to carry grief and hope in the same breath, to build bridges between what was and what could be.

In time, we come to see that the pendulum’s sway is not a sign of instability, but of life—of movement, reflection, and return. And if we’re lucky, we learn that home is not a fixed place on a map, but a rhythm we create within ourselves.