Austin or Bust

Two days and 31 hours of driving with my two Golden Retrievers brought me to my new home in Austin Texas. At 6AM, after a brutal 17 hour drive from Scottsdale, Arizona, Pepsi, Pearl and I arrived exhausted, but safe. I drove with vigilance and determination through the Texas Hill Country, my hands gripping the steering wheel in fear that I would collide with one of the many deer that dotted the road, or in one case, darted out onto the deserted main street of a small town along 290. I was advised to take 290 when I asked folks at gas stations and coffee shops, though it was always tempered with a warning to "watch out for those deer". And there were plenty to watch out for. It was last hour or two that tested me, when Austin seemed too close to surrender to the temptation to stay in one the quaint lodgings in hill country. I had the dogs, and by the time I checked in and got them walked and settled, I could be in Austin, climbing into the bed waiting in the guest bedroom, in an otherwise empty house. So I drove on, arriving as the sun began to rise.

In the driveway I surveyed my home for the next 3-4 years, perhaps more depending on how long it takes me to complete a PhD and the opportunities that unfold as a result. My aching and stiff body betrayed my 52 years, no longer able to sustain the rigors of marathon road trips as I did on the old days. We did it I said to Peps and Pearl, this is home from now on. It was an epic journey on so many levels. I drove away from my home in California two days earlier, tears streaming down my face as I glanced in the rear view mirror at my two children and their father, waving to me. They never saw those tears, nor were they privy to the doubt, fear and guilt I felt as I drove away from a street I had lived for 20 years. I raised my kids on that street, in a house I never wanted to live in, a poor substitute for my dream to move to Seattle. It all seemed so long ago, the big and small episodes, crowded memories tucked into a few boxes and the many more left behind, almost suspended in motion between my old and new life. Those four walls protected me and received me in my various states. It withstood the slamming doors, my meltdowns and fits, and it witnessed my lowest ebbs that I managed to keep hidden from the world. We harbor secrets, that house and I. When I floated on my dreams and painted hours on end, spent a year and a half writing a book and held those I love, it enclosed my joy. I learned to love that house, perhaps grudgingly, but I loved it nonetheless. And like many loves, it can slowly close you in and take the air out of your lungs, the walls closing in and blocking light. That's how it felt, though the house was not the culprit, it was simply time for me to shake up the marbles and make a leap of faith. If I was to pursue and complete a PhD it would require me leaving my life, family, and the familiar. No more drops ins, piles of other people's laundry, housework for three, or easy access.

What led me to Austin is part of a larger trajectory. I intend to retrace those steps as I chronicle my life here. The ordinary is always more extraordinary that the grand gestures. The composition of moments, hours and days that form the contours of our lives; the range of emotions felt, interactions, relationships and experiences provide a vantage point of who we are, where we have been and where we wish to go. I am committed to taking a chance on magic and welcoming the unknown. History is worth recounting, memory holds place and establishes a context for our always developing selves. I can account for the past; however, the future is a blank slate. I can work with that. The important thing is to get started. So in official blog capacity, my life in Austin has begun. If you care to, follow along and let's see where it takes me.