I’m Moving To Knoxville

Sometimes life comes at you like a Joe Milton deep ball. You’re ready for it. You know the play call. As the play snaps into action, your heart thunders in your chest. Your legs burn as you sprint down the field to catch the rocket he just launched. You have practiced this play dozens of times. Now it’s happening for real, and all you can do is trust the plan and execute your part. It’s on Milton to throw accurately. It’s on the offensive line to protect him long enough to get the pass off. It’s on your teammates to clear your path downfield. It’s a team effort, yet you have a very specific part to play. 

That’s how I’ve felt lately, although I’d argue I have less direction than the above-mentioned receiver. He’s put in a lot of practice hours. I’m racing down the field on instinct and gut feeling, trusting all the parts and pieces unfolding around me are doing exactly what they should. 

There was no missing God’s directive for me to move to Nashville. He said it so loud and clear while I was journaling in January 2022 that I couldn’t dismiss it if I wanted to. It made no sense at the time. I was happy in Los Angeles, pursuing an MFA in writing and producing for television with every intention of working in development in another year’s time. Two months later, I couldn’t get out of L.A. fast enough and by the end of July, I was loading up my car to make the drive from Los Angeles to Nashville, my second cross-country move in eighteen months. Being back in Nashville felt right, right away. I’ve always loved Nashville. I knew when I moved away the first time that I would be back. I believed Nashville would be the place I settled down. 

One year later – almost to the date – I’m moving to Knoxville. 

To say I didn’t see this coming would be an understatement. Nashville has lost some of its charm thanks to bachelorette parties, tourists, and traffic, but it’s still Nashville and I still love it. Sure, rent is arguably at extortion levels, it takes me an hour plus to go nine miles most evenings, and the cost of property puts homeownership out of reach for the time being, but I love Nashville, chaos and all. 

I don’t know when it happened. Maybe it was back in March when I took my first trip to Knoxville in four years to show my friend Hanna around. It was the most perfect early-spring day and Jared Dickey hit a walk-off sacrificial fly to beat Texas A&M in what would be a series sweep. The University of Tennessee seemed to be showing off and even a dozen years after I graduated, it still felt like “home sweet home” as I walked around campus and pointed out the things and places that shaped so much of who I am now. 

Maybe it happened a couple of weeks later when my brother and his partner flew into Nashville and we went to Knoxville to celebrate my birthday with a baseball game and a lot of whiskey. It poured rain during the game but the weather broke and the next day, Easter Sunday, was another one of those picture-perfect days that just beg you to sit out on a patio with a mimosa. – which we most certainly did – and Market Square seemed like the most magical place on earth. 

It could have been two months later when I had a rare Saturday off from teaching Pure Barre and so I hopped in my car to make the three-hour drive east to look at a couple of apartments.

Just in case. 

Call it instinct. Call it a nudge from the Holy Spirit. Call it what you will, but I felt inspired to head to Knoxville, tour a couple of apartments, and wander around Old City and downtown for a bit. At that point, I had an inkling that I might be up for a job at Tennessee, but that is all it was – an inkling. A very farfetched inkling. 

Within a few weeks, I’d interviewed twice and accepted the role. 

Now I’m moving to Knoxville. 

I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it. This whole experience has been so different than my previous moves and big life decisions. I’ve been prompted to move to Nashville twice, made up my mind to move back to Charlottesville, down to Chapel Hill, out to Los Angeles. In each of those moves, I went to work making it happen. I looked for the job, applied for the school, hunted down the location to open a barre studio. There was an end goal and I was committed to seeing it through. This time, there was – peace. 

I tossed my name into the hat for this job at Tennessee on a whim. I liked the idea of living in Knoxville, but it wasn’t a priority. It wasn’t something I obsessed over. I didn’t go online every day looking for jobs to apply to or opportunities to take advantage of. I simply spent an hour one evening cleaning up my resume and applying to a role at UT that I was, in my opinion, a very long shot to even get an HR screening for, then let it go. Out of sight, out of mind. 

Almost two months after I submitted that application, I got an email. It wasn’t just an HR screen, it was a full panel interview with the search committee. I followed my instincts that said “say yes” and scheduled a Zoom interview for late afternoon on a Thursday. Ten days later, I was a finalist and invited for an in-person interview that happened to align with some already planned PTO. I left campus knowing it was my dream job. I wanted it. A verbal offer came a couple of weeks later, followed by an official offer. I leaned into my gut feeling and signed on the dotted line. 

Now I’m moving to Knoxville. 

There was no anxiety, no “please, please, please let this be the one” prayers like there was when I was desperate to get out of Los Angeles. There was no trying to pull the strings, no obsessive thoughts about the outcome. There was just – peace. For perhaps the first time ever, I surrendered it all to God and said “Your will be done.” I didn’t need another job. My marketing director job at an agency was stressful, but it was stable and I was doing well. I perhaps didn’t love it, but there was nothing pushing me to get out and look for something else. I’d merely followed a whim, a little flutter in my soul that said “just see what happens.” I surrendered and let Jesus have the metaphorical wheel. 

Now I’m moving to Knoxville. 

This move feels different. I can’t explain how or why. It just – does. It feels final, which, given that it will be my third big move in two years, feels weird to say. Never say never, of course, but that’s the feeling I have as I write this – a finality. Not a bad finality or a final finality, but perhaps more of a finally. I don’t know what that means, if it means anything. I just know that this time feels different. This time feels like finally. 

Putting in my notice was hard. I worked with great people at the agency and I was building a strong team. We were in the midst of a lot of other transitions and I felt a certain responsibility and an awful lot of guilt as I delivered my news to first HR and my boss and then my team and then the rest of the agency. It was hard, but they understood. 

It’s Tennessee. 

And if there is one thing my co-workers know about me, it’s that I love Tennessee. I think they understood that it wasn’t them – it was the opportunity to go to work for Tennessee, for the place that is so special to me, so critical in shaping the person I am and will continue to become. 

I get to work for the University of Tennessee. 

I get to work with an incredible team to grow a brand new college from the ground up. 

I get to spend my days on the campus I love so much. 

I get to share how special the University of Tennessee is with the next generation. 

I get to help shape the University of Tennessee for the next generation. 

I’m moving to Knoxville. 

I continue to lean on 2 Corinthians 3:12: 

Since, then, we have such a hope, we act with great boldness.

Acting boldly, with hope. That’s what I’m doing. 

I’m racing down the field, trying to catch that Joe Milton deep ball, as the metaphor goes. 

Rocky Top, I’m coming home sweet home. 

I’ll see you soon.