HEY THERE.       PLAYLISTS.       BOOKSHELF.       CRÈME DE LA CRÈME.         NASHVILLE.       THE MOTHERLAND.       BEAUTYCOUNTER.       MY SHOP.         ELSEWHERE.     

Sunday, August 4, 2013

balancing it out.

[via pinterest].

Home. 

Such an intriguing concept for me... over and over, I bounce it around in my mind. Nashville has undoubtedly nestled its way into this tried-and-true Texas girl's heart, but try as I might, I can't get Texas off my mind (and anyone who asks me to won't fare well in that process).

This weekend was the therapeutic escape my soul needed. I am tired. I am just so tired. This extroverted control freak is most comfortable--most myself--when I have a full calendar, but lately I haven't drawn the line, I've treacherously danced over it, 12- to 14-hour day after day, and I have really drained myself. The color-coded agenda pages that normally put me in my element have just exhausted me of my zest lately. I knew coming home would be good for me, I just didn't know how good it would be until I got here. It always happens this way.

I miss ST and Maizie terribly... yeah, it's been just a handful of days, but they're my home now. We have our tangible home--the address and the square footage complete with new rugs and reno- projects in their various states of completion. But my home--true home--is in ST's impromptu deep laugh, our late-night chatfests over coffee in bed, and the sly boyishness of his ocean blue eyes--usually when he's saying something wildly inappropriate. Home is in Maizie's warm, early morning puppy snugs, ecstatic greetings as I arrive home, and constant shadowing of my every move. I think it can take a lot for a human to create "home" for herself--and zip code has little to do with it. So, all that to say... that while Nashville is my road map home, there's no better sanctuary than being surrounded by the people who've known you the longest, who've loved you through your worst, who will never change. My heart is, and will always be a little torn.

I feel grateful to get back to my routine, my little family, my friends. But I am more aware than ever of how much I miss here. How much I'm missing everyday. The comfort of my childhood home, the familiarity of joking with my parents (and seeing their faces, hearing their laughs in person), the sweet smell of summertime heat in the country, the local cuisine I can't get in Nashville, the warmth and hospitality of perfect strangers (you'd think Tennessee would have more of this, being in the south and all--no. There's a staunch difference between the two locales). Seeing my nephews light up at the newest trinket I surprised them with, witnessing my five-month-old niece glow as my brother, her daddy, nestles her close to his tanned, grown-up face. 

No matter how technology or science evolves, no one person can make any more time materialize for herself on this earth. We're here while we're here, and that's it (evocative, I know). But with that thought wedged in my mind, I want to be more deliberate. Maybe not tie myself to so many causes and obligations, but savor a few and really do well at those. I've become the portrait of "spreading yourself too thin," and its damage is real. I see my mom's life and how little she was even capable of doing--that mere thought makes me feel so ridiculously selfish not to embrace every opportunity I can possibly clutch. But I can't keep trying to do it all. I just need to strive to find the balance.

I know the dots might not be connecting here, but suffice to say, my all-too-brief Texas trips always serve as the proverbial deep breath in my hectic no-longer-new-to-Nashville life. My people, my roots--all of it effortlessly reminds me of who I am and what I want in life. It unfailingly puts me back on track every time. There's no substitute for it.

Tomorrow when I board my evening flight out, I'll cry silent tears as I hug my parents goodbye until October. I'll gaze out the window of the puddle jumper to Dallas, and I'll soak up every image of the aerial maze of flat, neat blocks of vast farmland. I'll land at DFW, probably inhale some tacos or other fine Mexican fare. I'll spend the next couple of hours flipping through the hundred or so pictures from the weekend on my phone, fondly smiling back at all of the people I love so, so much, missing them already. 

And late tomorrow night, my plane will land in Nashville where I'll get engulfed by one of my boyfriend's perfect hugs. Maizie will most certainly make the trip to the airport with him, where she'll smother me with puppy whimpers and gratuitous kisses in the front seat. We'll make the short drive home and I'll quietly anticipate the week ahead, snapping back into the day-to-day I've molded for myself, the life I've taken the reins on directing, after years of guidance and endless support from my parents. Such is life. This is what we do.

Tonight, my heart is overwhelmingly thankful for a family, a background, a childhood that has made me so, so glowingly proud to be who I am, and where I come from. I don't have the Texas address anymore, but you can bet your ass I'll always be a Texas girl. 



p.s. Happy Birthday to the best Pops in the world!! I love you too much, and I'm so happy I could spend the day with you. Every day, more and more, I'm so proud to be your daughter. 

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