My lifesong

Did I ever mention how much I love to travel? ;) I think it's because I go on a trip expecting one thing out of it (like having crazy fun), and I come away with something completely unexpected and different and rich.

I drove alone to DC a few weeks ago to visit my close friend and college roommate Christine. This was my first trip back as a married woman without an official career (I used to go there annually when I was single!). I always crash at Christine's rowhouse in Alexandria, in a beautiful, busy urban neighborhood like something you'd see on TV. I walk to the metro station in the mornings when Christine's gone to work, and I'll catch the subway into the district and spend the day wandering around museums and boutiques, or simply strolling the streets and people-watching.

Last time I was there in 2003, I was, at that point, involved in some sort of strange and exciting pseudo-relationship with Jeremy, whom I'd hit it off with during a previous trip there. I have met lots of Christine's friends, and I always loved rubbing shoulders with all of the different people I'd meet through her. Christine and I would go out together for dinners with her friends at loud cantinas or little Greek cafes, we'd catch a show at the Kennedy Center, we'd throw snowballs in Dupont Circle. It was always exciting. I loved stepping into her life as the urban single girl... all the time wondering if I sold myself short by not taking the "Carrie Bradshaw" route.

This past trip... wow. It was still a blast but it was SO different. One major reason is that I had no interest in meeting any guys, and that always changes the overtones of a situation. You know how you always have that tinge of excitement when you're single, always dressing up because you never know if the guy you meet at the grocery store could be "the one"? Obviously since I'm married, I'm not looking! But I think in some corner of my mind I used to wonder if I might meet the man of my dreams on the Metro, perhaps a cute young politico in suit and tie, collapsing into the seat next to me after a long day on the Hill.

So I guess I had less of a desire to "see and be seen" this trip. And DC is an area ALL ABOUT being seen out on the town. It's a social climber's paradise... the first question out of everyone's mouth is, "so what do you do?". What was I going to tell them this time? Not many people are truly interested in hearing about the misery of nursing homes or the virtues of happiness found in a Christian bookstore.

And Christine's really into wine now. She's not an alcoholic, mind you, but she loves going to wineries, enjoying a glass every now and then, talking about wine, tasting different wines, etc. It's a world unfamiliar to me since, surprise! I don't enjoy the taste of wine. She really wanted to go to some wineries when we took our weekend trip to Charlottesville, but I was extremely reluctant. I had absolutely no interest in standing around with a group of mostly wealthy strangers, drinking beverages which I don't enjoy, discussing the career that I don't have, and pretending to be someone I'm not. I realized that it's just not ME. I'm not a winery-going type of person. During the trip in 2003, I would've been fine with going and could've played along with the best of them, but it's just not me anymore.

On my last day in DC, I spent the day visiting with my German friend Anne and her Italian boyfriend Max (another story for another day!). That night, I dropped them off at the Metro then drove back toward Christine's, parked the car, and let myself in her place. And then it hit me literally as I walked through the door: I was ready to go home. For the first time, I was READY. See, usually when I travel, I long to stay wherever it is that I'm visiting. It always seems better somehow, more exciting, more beautiful, more sophisticated, something I can't always explain.

This time, though, I found that I missed my life in Knoxville. I missed my sweet husband and funny little kitty. I missed my comfortable cottage and my church, my kids in the children's choir, and my job at the bookstore. I missed the (much quieter) night sounds of home and my mountains which are so close and so beautiful.

It's like I found my place in the world without even noticing that it happened. Somehow, over the last few years, life changed for me in giving me a rhythm that's right for me. It's fun and simple and joyous. I think it took getting away and putting myself squarely back into my "old life" for a few days in order to see that it really didn't fit me anymore.

It felt good!