This must be the place
It took me a couple seconds to realize where I was.
As I awoke in The Smoky Mountain News office in downtown Sylva one recent morning, I was in that momentary space between your dreams and reacting to your current reality. Part of me was a little bummed that girl I was chasing was back there, somewhere in my subconscious, and who knew if I’d ever track her down again? But, the other part of me was happy to see blue skies and mountaintops from outside the big bay windows of the office.
The night prior, I had a few too many drinks across the street at The Cut Cocktail Lounge, an old basement barbershop turned craft liquor emporium. My friends had just performed during Concerts on the Creek, and to celebrate the occasion, we hoisted some adult beverages high. Knowing I shouldn’t drive, I decided to crash on the office couch.
“Well, that’s pretty convenient, just having to walk across the street,” my friend said.
“Yeah, but I’d rather be going home to a good woman than once again just hitting the hay on the office couch,” I replied, pointing to my friend’s girlfriend and the good fortune of the relationship they possess.
Even though that statement casually fell out of my mouth, it still caught me off-guard, seeing as it was such a “matter of fact” sentiment I felt sincere enough in immediately blurting out. And with that, I’ve been retracing the steps of past that have led me to where I stand today. You know, when I awoke on the office couch, there was a split second where I thought to myself, “What if my younger self awoke here right now, what would he think or say about being here in Western North Carolina?”
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I find it funny — more so surreal, almost in awe — when I think back on the decisions made that led to the here and now. As in, how easily I threw the dart of chance at the board of opportunity that is my life. I’ve always kept looking ahead, pushing further into whatever ground felt the most comfortable and tempting enough to mine in search of not only truth, but also myself.
And so, what the hell am I doing with my life? It’s a feeling I’ve been kicking around recently, something that usually bubbles up from the depths of my soul around the anniversary of my coming to the Smokies. Four years down, and how many more to go, I wonder?
Lately, I’ve been thinking back on my time out in Eastern Idaho, on the backside of the Grand Teton Mountains, a landscape of vast prairie and endless sunsets. I was 22 years old and starting my first writing gig at a tiny newspaper, with barely any knowledge of journalism, let alone being on my own some 2,300 miles from home.
There’s many-a-night I’ll just be sitting back in my old recliner, staring out the window onto the silence of downtown Waynesville, all the while playing back in my head the trials and tribulations, the friendships and beauty I came across out there. I feel part of my soul is still back there, and I won’t ever get it back until I cross the Mighty Mississippi heading west.
But, as I sink my heart deeper into the rich soils of Southern Appalachia, my restless body shakes, rattles and rolls around, legs stuck in the cement of fate, always yelling at me, “You fool, didn’t we agree to never get attached to a place, to keep moving like a fast-paced, anonymous car under a twilight moon?”
When I packed up and left for Teton County, Idaho, in December 2007, Kaki King’s album “Dreaming of Revenge” found its way into my hands. It became the soundtrack of my nine months out yonder. And like most music burned in your mind by time and place, whenever I put it on, I think of the West, especially the song “Life Being What It Is.” I can’t help but hit repeat when her words echo from the speakers, “You would do anything, you’d give up everything for God knows why/I just can’t stay till you’re gone, I won’t wish you well/I won’t see you off, I won’t try to call if I see you in my mind/I’ll say to you it’s not your fault …”
I thought I’d find what I was looking for in Idaho, whatever that means. And, apparently I didn’t, seeing as I ended up just packing the truck again, with a few more items in tow, and headed east with the rising sun. And I thought I’d give that “search and rescue” operation of my true self another go, hence my repeated action of packing up and heading in some godforsaken direction.
And for the past four years, this region I call home. I’m not sure if I made anymore ground in my quest, spiritually at least, as that famous line from the film “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” rings like a bell hanging on the walls of my being, “You call yourself a free spirit, a ‘wild thing,’ and you’re terrified somebody’s gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It’s wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.”
The clock keeps ticking away. My feet keep moving along. I find the searching is more soothing than the actual discovery, but maybe that’s because I never stumbled upon the true treasure of my nature, and that of a counterparts. Who knows, eh?
Life is beautiful, grasp for it, y’all.
Hot picks
1 The Waynesville Craft Beer Faire will be held from 1 to 5 p.m. Saturday, Aug. 20, at the American Legion Post 47 in Waynesville.
2 Rising country/rock star Joe Lasher Jr. will perform at 8 p.m. Saturday, Aug. 20, on the outdoor stage at Lazy Hiker Brewing in Franklin.
3 The “Concerts on the Creek” series will host Porch 40 (rock/funk) at 7 p.m. Friday, Aug. 19, at the Bridge Park Pavilion in Sylva.
4 The Haywood County Fair will return Aug. 23-29 at the fairgrounds in Lake Junaluska.
5 Americana/folk act Lorraine Conard & Friends will perform at 8 p.m. Saturday, Aug. 20, at The Strand at 38 Main in Waynesville.
