My heart raced as I pulled into the driveway at my old salon on Tuesday morning. I hadn’t worked in a salon setting in two months (freelance and doing the requested cut/color for a friend doesn’t really count) and I hadn’t seen or really spoken to anyone from work in the same amount of time. I was nervous that it would be awkward, that everything would have changed, and that I wouldn’t fit the same as before.
Opening the door I was greeted by familier faces, warm welcomes and a sea of arms open to embrace me. I was home.
The day unfolded with friend after friend sitting in my chair, our laughter and conversation floating over the salon as I worked endlessly into the evening. My Cheeky Family inquired about my life in LA but I found that the longer I was there, the more the rhythm came, the more fluide everything felt, and slowly the memories of the last few months became blurry around the edges; I felt as though I had never left. But I did leave… I had been gone, and things were different (even if it was only the feeling of the changes in people lives influencing the ora of interaction).
It’s strange, this feeling of being home, but never at rest, of being in the familiar but having it seem slightly untenable.
That being said, this week , thus far, has been one of the most exhausting, oddly challenging, but truly most enjoyable weeks I have spent in Grand Rapids (there is no idle standing at any time). The uniqueness of being forced to make the most of every moment of everyday, (i.e. sitting at our favorite coffee shop feels more sacred, going to our favorite restaurants with friends feels far more special, doing breakfast early before work, going out with friends late after) as Drew put it “We need to suck the Marrow out of this trip, because far too soon we will be gone.”
When the day was done I was tired but happy. Spending a day doing what I love, with people I love and then going to see friends that I have missed dearly, catching up on their lives, and whats new with them, was too much, my heart nearly burst with joy.
Albert Einstine said, “There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
Having the ability to travel, to have people we want to see (and who want to see us), and even being able to come into my old job and work while on “vacation” is a small miracle.