Home.

Nashville International Airport. 1:30pm. Just an average airport Thursday – travelers leaving with their families for the weekend, or coming in to visit friends. I find the traffic in an airport, as common as it may seem, actually quite interesting. I love to sit and people watch and simply observe the daily dynamics that I find we take for granted in the bustle of life. I like being alone taking it all in - the mama rocking her baby to the live music playing in Tootsie’s bar – Johnny Cash of course, because what would Nashville be without hearing a classic Cash song while waiting for your plane – the older woman sitting by herself with a glass of wine or the crowd of businessmen howling in the corner about God knows what.

And then just like the startle I felt when my alarm clock went off at 8am (my attempt to get up and workout before my trip – epic fail), the baby starts whaling, the singer’s set is over and the waitress insists I order something in order to be sitting at the table, and I find myself back in the bustle with the rest of them. I know I should have expected that she would want me to at least buy something, but after lunch at Chipotle with MaryAnn, there was nothing I wanted, and so I just left and made my way to the gate, where I sit now.

It is all too familiar sitting here waiting to board the plane. It feels literally like yesterday that I was here with mom. We came to Nashville for a visit in April flying home after what was a very long and successful three days of interviewing and meeting with contacts in an attempt to jump-start my life. Yes, that seems like yesterday, but in a lot of ways I have come so far.

When I got to the security checkpoint today and the officer looked at my boarding pass and license and said, “Going home?” I paused for a second not really knowing how to respond. Yes I was going home to Cary, but a part of me feels like I am leaving home too. Nashville is a new home of course and certainly not one as established and nostalgic. Cary will always be my home. But it surprised me how quickly I said, “Well, home is here now,” and he smiled and said, “Oh, okay! Well, have a safe trip.” I laugh at myself now finding any kind of meaning in this. I mean, this guy was just making pleasant conversation and here I am using the exchange as a means to declare my piece of Nashville. But it felt nice to claim Nashville as home. It is a title I have long awaited since being a mere summer visitor last year, and now it is finally valid.

Except, yes, only three weeks after moving here, I am heading home for Andrea’s wedding, which will take place in Greensboro on Saturday. My big move has been cushioned by this visit home, which I think has kept me from feeling the gravity and permanence of the situation. But more than that, this visit has reminded me that my friends and I are true adults. I simply cannot believe that one of my close friends is getting married, and not even just her, but that Jill, my old friend from high school, is also engaged. I know I am still young but it makes me feel like I am worlds away from being in that place in my own life… maybe a little too behind. It certainly puts the "real" in real world when your friends start tying the knot and making a commitment to be with one person for the rest of their life. I had a hard enough time deciding on which dress to wear to the wedding. But I guess that is what makes everyone’s journey different. I guess when it’s right, it’s right … right?

Oh no. This sweet older gentlemen just came up to me asking me to explain where he should stand in line - good old South West throwing the elderly for a loop. I guess this humbling encounter means it is time to board...

Home in Cary. 10:54pm. After the short flight I spent lost in the pages of Emily Giffin's newest novel, Heart of the Matter, I found myself touching down in North Carolina. It had felt like only minutes before that we were taking off - the true testament of a good read - and just like that I was back home. It felt weird to be driving back into my neighborhood because I only left it 3 weeks ago. I kind of wish more time had passed to make the moment more meaningful, but instead the neighborhood was the same as I left it just 15 degrees hotter in temperature. The streets completely familiar. Nothing had really changed, which felt surreal seeing as so much has changed in my world in the same amount of time.

Then I spent the night out to dinner with the parents and Monica and we went back to her place to see her new town home furnished. It looks amazing! I absolutely love it. I cannot wait to own something with two stories one day :)

All of this got me to thinking. They say home is where the heart is, but where is home really? Is it the place you were born? The place you grew up? The place you live now? Or even just the name you give the hotel you are staying at on a week-long vacation? I have come to find that home is not just where you live, but where you feel safe and where you can rest your head each night in peace. Home is anywhere the walls hold memories, and secrets and where you create the stories that ultimately make up the chapters of your life. Home is not just one house or one place. It is more a feeling of comfort and security; love and acceptance. I feel that way now as I lay in bed. I feel that way in Nashville. I feel that way in the Disney Swan and Dolphin sharing a bed with my sister after a day of being a kid again in the parks. I feel that way on the stage. I feel that way writing this blog.

So yes, home is where the heart is, but with that said, no matter where you are in life, the only thing you need to feel at home is to have the wisdom to know what is truly in your heart and the courage to follow it.