The Long Way Home

What two years can do to a person...

It's strange to think it has been only two years since I began writing on this blog. Today, as I now have a full-time job at an NPR affiliate, I find myself recollecting on how it is possible that I got here.

I am fortunate to have had professors and people in the industry who have all thought I was worthy of a chance. To all of you, thank you.

I also know I have the best mother on the face of the earth - and I know there are many of you out there who would argue that yours is the greatest of all - and isn't it wonderful that we share that?

But something has changed in me.

I can say I've lived in another state besides Oklahoma.

I've moved away. I've left my loved ones.

Why?

Somedays - I don't know. It's uncomfortable to be by yourself. In foreign city, all alone.

On other days it also can be peaceful.

But I haven't written a personal or creative sentence in this time frame, since I've moved. It's been almost 10 months.

Well, until now of course.

I don't know what I've been waiting on - maybe there is no answer.

If I had a child, what would I tell them - if they were to do the same once the time comes?

I hope they would miss home - wherever that shall be. But I wouldn't want them to miss it so much that it doesn't allow them to grow.

One of my favorite quotes is from the writer Anaïs Nin - and I go back to it often when I feel like I'm learning a big life lesson.

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." 


I had a professor once say that we were all like flowers - some were daisies, others roses or tulips... I had decided when he said that I wanted to be a peony - because they are my favorite flower. I thought about being a lily since my middle name is connected to them - but no. 

I liked the complexity of a peony. I figured out once you plant them - they do not like to be moved. 

Well, that honestly felt pertinent to my situation. 

In regards to the Nin quote I think it had dawned on me - what if we are not a single flower - but many?

Maybe when we grow in some way, that's when another one of our buds bloom. As we travel and explore our roots grow.  As we remember where we started, that's how our foundation becomes more firm. 

This I am still figuring out. 

But... 

I realized that when I take the long way home to Oklahoma - the whole 4 hours and 30 minutes of it - I find myself taking in the landscape more - the simplicity of the pastureland with the modern structures of turbines lining the southern Oklahoma border. 

When I pass Oklahoma City, I see it growing. It's like a heartbeat. 

You can feel the life from the city on the 4 lane highways. 

And when I get to the driveway - the gravelly, canopied stretch of road that opens into a clearing where the house sits perfectly in the center, with a big oak tree in the front and two small connected ponds infested with water irises, I feel my roots becoming situated. 

For I am home - at last.