Home?

I woke up earlier than I should have on a Saturday. It feels like my body is still on East Coast time - I wake up early here feeling late morning in my bones. Other than the timelessness of mornings, I am surprised at the peace and the contentedness I feel about this move. After these past few weeks, I look back over my time in Columbia and realize that so many things came to a head there when I had time to rest, reflect, and feel. I was completely mentally tormented and in emotional turmoil in the days leading up to my departure and even for the first full day of the trip. I can see clearly now how the comfortable and familiar has kept me safe in my life. But I can also see how it has almost kept me standing still when everything was calling me to keep moving forward. 

I can't quite put my finger on why & it sounds so dang cliche, but after driving through Montana and being here in Missoula, it feels like I am supposed to be here. Wholeheartedly, completely. Here in this place. Just the place. All the other factors of my life: job, house, etc. - they are separate from this feeling. I am just genuinely happy to be here. Our little blue house on a quiet street doesn't hurt, but it is when I'm outside of this little bungalow that I feel it most acutely. 

In the mornings I walk Cano and watch the fog make its way up the sides of the mountains. I watch the sun rise up from my beloved East & I think how nice it is that it's already seen all of my loved ones - bearing their light as it comes to greet me. Our neighborhood is quiet enough to walk Cano without his leash in the morning and he is so happy in the cool (low 40s in the AM now) that I can't be worried about the sharp temperatures or the early hour. Our kitchen window is east-facing and when we come back, the sun hits the coffee pot & the coffee hits my foggy mind & it's all a medicinal poetry. 

I live five minutes from my office & compared to the hour I needed to budget for getting to work in D.C.,  it's a damn miracle. I feel like a new person in the mornings, there's so much more time for sleep, yoga, walking, and wandering around because I still haven't quite figured out the extra time and a morning routine. At lunch, I'm able to come home and spend an hour with Cano - we walk, we sit in the sunshine. It's one of those work benefits that I can't quantify in value. I also found an women-only gym that I already love (thanks Montana by-laws and a work wellness benefit) that is two doors down from my office. I can drive 10 minutes after work to take Cano hiking in actual national forests. Turns out, work-life balance is all they said it could be. These small things help me feel like I'm home, like I really do live here. 

Missoula is a special place of cool air nestled in a valley at the confluence of three rivers. All of that you can read online, but Missoula is a place full of people who spend as much time as possible outside, who recognize the value of a bluebird day, who seek adventure and share the skills to find the big kind. It is a special place full of kind, but proud Montanans - on the whole friendly but notably wary of newcomers. (Missoula has grown a lot, and I don't blame the people here for wanting it to remain a best kept secret.) I am almost always aware of how much of an outsider I am. At work, I am one of two non-Native Americans. In town, most people I meet are from from Montana or at least the region at large. It's a strange and freeing feeling - I am poised to learn everything from the beginning with no baseline or preconceived notions. It's a beautiful way to discover Montana and its people. 

I am grateful to my friends and family who showed so much support for taking this risk. My favorite people who reminded me that I should try it, that home will always be there, that I should leave myself open to all that this experience can bring. I feel unburdened and unafraid and happy. Genuinely happy.