Heads and tails
For me, Nashville is a safe place to land. It’s a city that always welcomes me back and tells me that I belong.
After spending last week with friends, holding new babies and touring new homes, being surrounded by people who know me and accept me, talking about life, love, and other mysteries (not this), I found my heart creeping back to that place that it always goes: Do I want to move back?
But I know that the question is bigger than that. It always is. The real question is, Is my life what I hoped it would be?
And for the entire 17-hour drive back to Denver, Foxy curled up in a ball on the passenger seat, I turned that question over and over in my head, an existential coin toss.
I don’t live in Nashville – tails. But I do live in Denver – heads.
I don’t get to see these people on a regular basis – tails. But I do have them as friends forever – heads.
I’m not independently wealthy – tails. But I do have a job that, most days, I really love – heads.
I don’t have a guest room – tails. But I do have a charming little hut just big enough for my dog and me, with high ceilings and skylights and an interior brick wall and a gas stove and a clawfoot tub – heads.
I’m single – tails. But I am single – heads.
Sometimes we choose our circumstances, and sometimes they choose us, and sometimes the only choice we have is to choose them back.