Thoughts on place along the river

On Thursday, Bryce took me to see Gillian and Dave and Old Crow Medicine Show at the Riverfront as a lovely birthday present (fitting since the show is called "The Big Surprise Tour.") They, along with the other bands (who were new to me), played on each other's songs and had a ridiculous amount of fun together on stage. With the sun setting over the buildings and the breeze off the Cumberland, it was a delicious evening and my heart was full. It got me thinking about where we are, where we are going, and the blessings piled on the banks along the way.

photo borrowed from for2now2 on flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/2now2/3805186038/

If you've talked to me lately, you know that I am having a hard time with our move to Robbinsville, NC at the end of September (though I am actually talking about it now, as you can see, which is an improvement.) This week has been a lovely, busy reminder of all the people I have here in Nashville that fill up my life in a talking, laughing, eating, walking kind of way.

Even there at the concert there were friends and friends of friends that we have connected with in the last couple of years and friends who I have held somewhere in my heart for years...Brent is home from Mexico and we have missed him, especially as he has helped celebrate most all of the major milestones in Bryce and I's life. Dawn and I caught up while Gillian played and laughed about how I would run to catch the bus in fifth grade looking like I had never heard of a hair brush- nineteen years ago! Dear Ariana was home knitting on our couch, minding a baby, and we probably had three other friends that we could have just plopped him in a pack n' play at their house for the evening. Around every corner in our neighborhood are friends, glorious friends, ripe for the conversation picking!

I know how moving is... I know what is coming. Evenings spent home with projects instead of conversation. Inviting people over for dinner and then wondering afterward if that was a one-night stand or the beginning of a friendship. Not having any person to call and walk with during my afternoon crazies when I HAVE to escape my house. And while it sounds like I am being pitiful (and I really do need people), I am almost looking forward to it.

Whenever I have entered these times of solitude (starting college, moving to Nashville), beautiful things have resulted (especially visible in retrospect.) Things that I would not have heard, made, quilted, journaled, or seen about my life (and my God) if I had more people to fill up my time. This time won't be exactly solitude, of course, since I have my favorite men in my life along for this Eichelventure. But I will be going from feasting to fasting, as far as present friends are concerned. Fasting has it's own beauty, though, it's just not as loud about it. I should probably see if Thomas Merton and Henri Nouwen would like to come along.