Porto :: I write to you today from a plane flying somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. I’m on my way home… errr back to Seattle. I’m not so sure where home is right now. I guess for the moment we’ll stick with Seattle – the sweet city that I’ve experienced so much life in for so many years. Though, I have a feeling I may be calling a new place home soon.

I spent the past 2 weeks in Porto, Portugal for Christmas. My family came and met Helder and his family and we had not one, but two Christmas’s (Portuguese on the 24^th and American on the 25^th). In hindsight, two back to back big gatherings with two families whose ability to communicate was somewhat limited may have been a bit much for everyone, but none the less we created it and while it my have had a few imperfections it was also so good and let’s face it quite  miraculous in some ways. I’m still pinching myself as a reminder that it happened at all.

My family left Porto a few days ago leaving Helder and I together to debrief the experience and talk about what’s next for us. Per usual, my mind seems to swiftly move back and forth from extreme certainty to extreme uncertainty about the way forward. It was cold and rainy these past few days and we spent most of our time cooking food together, going to the movies and holding each other while intermittently inserting thoughts and dreams for our next steps together.

Yesterday, the rain stopped and we joined what felt like the entire city of Porto for the annual San Silvestre 10K. An evening run that happens in multiple cities all over Portugal at the end of every year.

After 2 weeks of Portuguese dinners and not too much running these past couple months my body felt each one of those 10 K’s, but amidst the aches I was also touched by the environment of the run. Helder doesn’t like to run races more than once, he likes running new races for a new experience. San Silvestre is the exception to this rule. He runs it every year. “The environment is incredible” he always says with twinkling eyes. He has the most beautiful ability to soak in the present moment and get caught up in the energy and environment of a place and it’s people. I loved seeing his adrenaline pick up as he ran through the city – up hills and through cobblestone streets(not the best running conditions in my opinion!) and past curbs lined with people cheering, leftover Christmas lights twinkling, stunning river views, through a tunnel filled with music and my favorite: old ladies perched along their balconies waving.

In my “un-10K” shape my biggest motivations and distractions were to wave to the old ladies as we ran past and blow them kisses seeing who I could get to wave or kiss back. That, and Helder’s and his friend Pedro’s(who I met minutes before the race) insistence that we were in this together even though they were capable of running much faster than me. We did indeed cross the finish line together.

80% of the houses and apartments in Porto are vacant(that’s right 80%) – leftover from a not so distant economic crisis. A few are being refurbished, a few are inhabited by the most precious old ladies who’ve been able to stick it out over the years and whose lives and endurance I am so curious to know more about, but most are dark and vacant. They are perhaps owned by a family somewhere without the means to restore it or in the midst of squabble about what to do with it.  As time continues, I’m sure there will come a time when the inhabited and restored apartments will outnumber the vacant and perhaps at that point the city will feel even more alive and vibrant, but last night and for now (atleast to me) it feels deeply hopeful, quite strong, full of resilience, determination and life.  Which, if I’m honest and can dig past my fears about my way forward and where I’ll be calling home is how I feel too.