Live Where You Want to Live: Mindfulness, presentness, and choosing to stay

Today is my 4th Nash-iversary – I arrived in Music City August of 2014, and have been trying to leave ever since. 

I moved here at the crest of the great Nashvegas boom that brought lots of young creative-types looking for a lifestyle with a particular aesthetic. We came for jobs in specialty markets like music, denim, and coffee, and have an affinity for live-edge wood, tattoos with meaning, and horn-rimmed glasses – you get the picture? But somewhere around the 6 month mark, I hit a wall. #authenticliving was wearing thin from overuse, and it seemed apparent to me that this city was peddling Heritage Americana Bullshit to meet the growing tourist demand for #livefolk photo-ops. And that was before the full weight of the Bach Scene descended on us! This was compounded by the fact that the job I’d relocated for was running me ragged, my relationships were strained, and money was scant. Therefore, my usual escape valve of random and distant travel was off the table.

Elizabeth Gilbert said in a podcast interview I was listening to recently that, “Terrified people make terrible decisions.” In my panic that I had made a series of very wrong decisions, I started flailing around for an escape hatch. And I made sure to do so while poo-pooing Nashville for the shortcomings that filled my field of vision. Nothing about this place was as good as [that other place I once lived where things were also a struggle which I have now conveniently white-washed].

2015: I took interviews with members of the Nashville creative leadership trying to get them to tell me that I couldn’t possibly use my master’s degree here and oh yes I should definitely leave and go back to Washington, DC. They did not do that. So I stayed.

2016: I devoted 9 months to studying for and taking the Foreign Service Officers Test – a placement exam for the State Department. I didn’t get in. (And, considering the state of the department now, thank goodness.)

2017: I decided, “Ok not DC, let’s try for California,” and set my sights on getting to Los Angeles. Work for an art museum, a non-profit, a start-up – anything, really, so long as it wasn’t here.

That plan got a little sideways, and in the late summer, I decided to do what I had never done in Nashville before: commit to this place. I signed another year of my lease and said, “You know what, Nashville, show me what you’ve got.” As usual when I take leaps of faith like this, I have been rewarded over and over again. 

In the last year, I have gotten a job in my field, reinforced friendships, built new ones, fallen in love, re-connected with old hobbies, started new projects, and come to a shocking conclusion. For a person who has lived the last 30 years of her life with one foot out the door, I have concluded that the best thing I can do is live in the city I want to live in. That doesn’t mean “uproot when you are unhappy and move across the country” (contrary to every bone in my body demanding that I do so) but rather “make where you are a place you want to live.” I’m challenged myself to find the local spots that scratch the itches that I might not be able to afford right now. I invest time and energy into community groups that make this place better for everyone. Get out of the car and go do human-powered things. Talk to strangers. Make opportunities to be surprised by the place you live.

And just this weekend, I renewed these vows and renewed my lease. Besides the weird fact that this will be the longest I’ll have lived in a single structure since sophomore year of high school, I’m feeling pretty good about it. I can’t wait to see what happens next.