This must be the place: 'And I got lost where the river bends, maybe that's where I got found'

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This must be the place: 'And I got lost where the river bends, maybe that's where I got found'

Somewhere in Kentucky. Garret K. Woodward photo

Hello from 30,054 feet somewhere above rural Missouri. The Delta flight is currently holding steady at 517 miles per hour. And here I sit once again. In motion, in real time. Onward to the next adventure.

This go-round it’s the Park City Song Summit in Utah. This is my third year attending and covering the festive gathering of world-class musicians and fine industry folks, all surrounded by the majestic Rocky Mountains. Some trail running is definitely in order once I roll up.

Heck, I just returned to Western North Carolina a couple of weeks ago from an extensive road trip out west. Some 5,500 miles (in total) from my quaint apartment in Waynesville to Whitefish, Montana, and back. Quite the odyssey, especially the whole thing being a solo expedition across America — all in the name of live music, hiking, swimming, wandering, pondering and jovial, genuine human interaction.

And yet, here I remain, eager to touch down in Salt Lake City and make my way to Park City. Eager to immerse myself in the steadfast ethos of the PCSS, which is an underlying theme of health and wellness advocacy and so forth within the music industry and beyond. Something I’m not only a big supporter of, but also practicing myself.

Which brings me to the activities of yesterday evening. I found myself invited to read some personal works at Outdoor 76 on Main Street in downtown Waynesville. The host is a good buddy. The others who read ranged from college professors to musicians to local residents who enjoy writing. All welcome to attend, to listen and/or to share their words.

For someone like myself who hunkers down to write literally every single day — whether it be articles, this weekly column or whatever else I may type away at in a fury — I started to wonder just what I’d read in front of a live audience. Knowing there’d be poets and essayists, I wanted to do something completely different. And in that moment, I thought of a recent voice memo that I’d left a friend. I re-listened to the 10-minute memo and felt it definitely stated where I currently stand.

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To preface, if you’ve read this column somewhat frequently, you probably already know how much a rollercoaster the last year or so of my existence has been. Complete work burnout and mounting stress. The aftermath of Hurricane Helene and losing most of my physical possessions in the flood. The blindsided breakup by my ex-girlfriend on Christmas Eve. Turning 40. Oh, and my laundry being stolen (again).

So, yeah, it’s been quite the journey since this time last year. Late August 2024 was when everything in my life, both personally and professionally, began to truly unravel. Which is why signing up for online therapy on Christmas Day (alone and shattered from the breakup) has proven a foundation that I now stand firmly on, all while in pursuit of this next, unwritten chapter of my newly-minted 40s.

Skip head to last month and my trek to Montana to be part of the Under the Big Sky music festival. While there, I crossed paths with this incredible person. We met the first day of the event. Both work in the music industry, with lots of mutual friends. Immediately clicked, so much so we ended up hanging out the whole weekend we were there. Long late-night conversations. Swimming. Walks. Live music. Etc.

There was definitely some chemistry there. If anything, it felt incredible to connect with someone in ways I thought were either lost or I was seemingly incapable of holding within me anymore. The butterflies feeling, you know? That sentiment of being completely and happily surprised out of the blue, when you least expected it, by someone who was a stranger a moment ago, now a fast friend over a beverage.

But, alas, she’s in Los Angeles. Myself in Southern Appalachia. Regardless, we’re now part of each other’s lives. And we’ll leave each other long messages from time-to-time about what’s new and so on. Although she had mentioned she was kind of seeing someone in LA when we were in Montana, it was no biggie. I just liked her company, her spirit and her energy. The budding friendship is well-worth it to me.

A recent message of hers indicated the LA guy had finally decided to pursue something more serious with her. But, she wanted to be transparent and kind enough to tell me so, and that she was looking forward to reading about all my upcoming adventures, maybe even crossing paths once again at another event later this year.

I decided to let the message simmer a little bit before I replied. No anger or resentment on my end. I’m happy for her and I only want the best for her (and any kind soul in this endless universe). To which, the recent afternoon that I did respond came right after I received some concerning news about my ex, which brought back a sea of memories and emotions, all of which were combated and resolved peacefully with my new therapy skillset.

And so, I left my friend in LA that voice memo. This was how it ended: “I don’t know, I guess I’m just an old soul, always thinking about stuff. I’m just looking at these ancient mountains, thinking about what happened today, thinking about what it’s been like to be home for the last week, thinking about the trip out west, and thinking about you. And I hope you’re doing really well. I hope that you’re happy, you deserve everything good that happens to you because you’re a good person. You make the world a good place. You are a positive pebble that ripples out into the universal waters. Don’t forget that. It’ll be good to hear from you. I look forward to it. I hope you have a good weekend. Bye.”

Life is beautiful, grasp for it, y’all.

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