During my recent blog break I was in San Francisco. I was also in airports during the Delta computer shut-down and flight-cancellation mess. But I was one of the lucky ones, one of the people who got to my destination within reasonable proximity of being on the same day, and with minimal fuss. A lot of other things went on during my blog break, and they will undoubtedly come out in their own time. But this is a (relatively) short post, and not the time for such things.
Once upon a time, I travelled to San Francisco once or twice a year. But nine years had passed since my last visit, nine of the hardest years of my life. Nine years ago, my own personal fracture lines were starting to show. It was time to return, but I hadn't been ready before now. I went to San Francisco to see friends, old friends mostly, friends who knew me before, but my trip also ended up being about reconnection with that person whom I was once was and still am to some extent. It was a visit of rediscovery.
I have many friends in San Francisco, many friends whom I did not see, many friends who may have been perfectly happy to get together, and yet I didn't make the effort. And yet there were old friends, friends I had not seen in seven years, nine years, friends I needed to see again. There was a meeting with a new friend who is also an old friend. And there was time to simply walk in this city. Some part of my old self was waiting for reconnection, for rediscovery. I have never lived in San Francisco, but perhaps I have simply been there enough that I am completely comfortable being who I am without worrying about social signaling or connecting with my "tribe" when I am there. I am sure if I were there longer than a few days, than a week or two here and there, my feelings would be different. But San Francisco reminds me that it is the closest I have come to be being a place person, although I am not a person of that place. I have always been a relationship person. Home is where the heart is, where the relationship(s) that sustain the soul are, at least for me. And yet I can, for a brief moment, when I am in San Francisco, understand the place-driven, for whom home is as much about place as about relationship.
A lot happened on my blog beak. I read. I walked. I spent time with friends and family. And I rediscovered something about myself that had, before this, remained at least partially hidden. That is the way of life sometimes, one step forward and two steps back. Or is it the other way around? It depends on our understanding.
Old and new. Change, fear, and holding on to the dear and known aspects of life. This is the human condition, this balance, this struggle. The two photos in this post were taken within three paces and one counter-clockwise turn of each other. They were the only pictures I took of this city. The old, the new, the uncharted path. We never know where we are going, but wherever we end up is at least partially shaped by where we have been.
