I have grand news of epic proportions! I have forgiven my hometown for its myriad of shortcomings, thanks to a dear friend’s Christmastime wedding. Somewhere amidst the Shirley Temples, old friends, and the Beegee’s, I discovered I am forever woven into my shabby town. And I accepted it today laughing away on the dance floor. This is where I’m from. I was a gypsy child to be sure, but this is the only place I grew roots.
I can’t breathe it in enough. These people and places that surround me during this holiday season showed me, through both their strengths and their weaknesses, how to feel. I learned passion walking among the sage and small downtown shops. I can’t count all of the joys and delights I would not love if it hadn’t been for Wyoming. The euphoria of a perfectly made meal, of watching the digital clock in the kitchen keep time to life changing conversations, of how dancing and singing loudly and off-key can be the inspiration you need, of taking deep breaths of mountain air (that is available even in town) until your lungs give you a standing ovation, and most importantly, what actually matters in this life. Ambition, jealousy, vanity, and material wealth seems trivial when you’re sitting on a bench on top of a small mountain, with the stars covering you in a blanket of infinite perspective.
And I find myself, for the first time since I began walking my own path and not others, finding myself completely immersed in peace. At home.