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I Want to Live Here

If I could live anywhere in the world it would be right here – where I live today. The evening stillness is setting in. Bright diamonds poke through the black mountain sky, the world is quiet around me. Dinner is put away, the kitchen cleaned. The house is tidied – today’s projects put back in place. The dryer makes a soothing clinking sound as its content hit up against it. My husband sits in the recliner, drinking hot chocolate and working  ahead for his upcoming summer job on the river. And I sit in the same place I began the day: the couch beside our giant picture window overlooking the valley’s prairie and the southern mountain range beyond that. Yeah, if I could live anywhere in the world it would be right here – Buena Vista, Colorado in a not-so-little rental house outside of town. IMG_0641IMG_0995IMG_1602IMG_0872photo-6IMG_2631

But if I moved I would want to live there – right there in the place we were. I would want to live there more than anyplace in the world. Whether it be down the road, across the state, or overseas. Where we were would be my dream home. And if we moved again, that’s where I would want to live – more than any other house or city or state. IMG_0663cropped-img_23542.jpgIMG_2593IMG_3402photo

I want to live where I am because I want to be fully present where I’m at.

Over spring break my husband and I packed up our backpacks and hopped in the van and drove across Colorado. For 48 hours we drove from town to town, exploring the south-western half of our beautiful state. With each charming mountain town we passed I found many places that looked like an ideal place to live. “I wonder what it would be like to live there?” I continued to ask. “I want to live here,” is my code for when I find someplace beautiful. But somewhere between Durango, Pagosa Springs, and Creede I realized something.

I don’t live anywhere except for where I live now.

{My thoughts often drip with this kind of profundity.}

Dream as I like, gazing over the fence at what others might call home, I have one place to live at and I want to live here with all that I have. It is not merely a pretty place to drive by on vacation. It is where we wake up each morning. It’s where the coffee is made, the eggs scrambled, the morning kisses given. It holds the clothes we will wear, the gear we will use, the books we will read. And at night this is the home we come back to. Just like now. We sit here in the livingroom together, sipping our evening tea and cocoa, listening to the dryer clink.

Contentment is really what I’m after. The kind of a life that doesn’t need a different house to live in or prettier landscapes to look at out the window. The kind of a life that savors slowly each season in its time, knowing that it won’t last forever, knowing that it is an abundant blessing, knowing that it is what’s best for me at this time in my life. And it’s my guess that people driving up Cottonwood pass on their vacations might look out their car window and wonder what it would be like to live on six acres along a mountain creek at the base of the Collegiate Peaks.

I drive home from City Market after grabbing a box of cheese-its and returning our Redbox movie from last night. Rain and spring smells seep in my cracked window that won’t stay up. I drive along County Road 306. I look to my left and see a little home faintly lit as dusk turns to night. My husband is there. The Friday night pizza is finishing up in the oven. We will spend our evening in that home together. I want to live there.

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