On wishing ground (aka, Austin, Texas).

In the South, when folks first arrive at a place that they have never before visited they call it wishing ground because it's a place where life can be re-imagined with entirely new hopes and dreams.

It's a phrase I love, and well over a year ago, I started to write a song around it. At the time, I had no idea the song was a premonition, of sorts, but it was. For last week, my family and I moved from San Francisco to Austin, Texas.

I tell you, moving is hard. In all my life I've never, really, truly done it, meaning moved away from my home with the intent of committing to a new place, and the difficulty of it all has taken me by surprise and filled me with doubts. I was ready for the upheaval of packing and unpacking, travel snafus, suitcase living. But I was not ready at all for the emotional displacement I feel. Everywhere I go, I am literally lost and I do not have any landmarks to orient me. I am constantly haunted by worries about whether or not Catherine and I did the right thing. I miss being near my folks. And on and on and on and on.

But this is wishing ground. This my chance to re-imagine my life and form new hopes and dreams or even just start to believe once again in things I have unwillingly or even willingly abandoned. As my song-in-progress says:

I was lost
But I will be found
Here on wishing ground