We live on Inclusivity Lane. A half mile stretch of gravel road, it meanders along the edge of the pine woods and open meadow leading to our driveway.
I love that we live on a road called Inclusivity. It’s a conversation starter for sure, and I never wait for people to ask when giving them our address, I just go ahead and spell it for them. But the reason I really love it is because of the message it sends.
You are welcome here.
In a few hours, our family will start to arrive for Rodeo Weekend, and a rite of passage is that once off the main road and onto ours, one of the “littles”, as we call them, climbs onto the lap of the parent that is driving the car, and takes over ( with help of course). The car creeps along, zigging this way, and zagging that, until they come to a stop and everyone pours out of the car.
There will be about 26 people this year camping out under the pines, tucked into a guest room or the Airstream Trailer parked across the driveway, gathering for morning coffee by an outdoor fire as the sun hits the mountain, cheering on the cowboys and cowgirls at the Rodeo, riding in the parade through town, holding babies, and sharing KP duty.
It’s simply the best.
It’s the best not because we are all the same, but because we aren’t. While we hold many things in common, there are plenty that we don’t. We love each other deeply and are connected and committed, not because of our similarities but in spite of our differences.
That is why living on this road makes me so happy.
If you find your way to our little town, keep an eye out for Inclusivity Lane and wind your way to our home.
You are welcome here.
