Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Thanksgiving has come and gone. I guess I missed my officially-sanctioned-holiday to express my gratitude for all the wonderful gifts in my life, though that won't really stop me anyways. I spent the first half of the holiday weekend with family of sorts, and the second half in a semi-comatose state. Sometimes my immune system keeps a cold at bay for days on end, sometimes it fights valiantly but eventually succumbs to the illness. This time I succumbed.
And oh, how I succumbed. I must have slept for more hours than I was awake during the day, and fell asleep reaaaaaaally early both Friday and Saturday night. And I'm still not over it. Last night I went to bed at 9:30 and the only reason I got up at 7:30 this morning was because I started a new job today and had to make sure I was going to be on time.
So maybe its the illness. Or maybe its my body trying to tell me something. I know this is the theory my parents are going with, from their [slightly worried] whispers I managed to overhear as I drifted in and out of consciousness at home over the weekend. I don't really think that I try to do too much in life, though I know I have a tendency to be overambitious, and I also know that there just isn't a whole ton of me to go around. I wish I had more energy, but maybe if I did I would be a different person. My approach to life and what I bring to it would be different.
So anyways. I love San Francisco. I really do. But for awhile now I've felt hankerings to leave - sometimes to leave the Bay Area in general and live in another part of the country, sometimes mad dreams to live on a farm and experience the four seasons and how intimately they tie in to the rhythms of our life, sometimes to flee to another country and immerse myself in a culture that takes a more laidback approach to life, sometimes even a longing for Palo Alto and the suburbia of my adolescence [and if you know me, that's one gigantic GASP right there].
And while I may never do any of the above [which would make me a little sad, but this is something that I can accept], I think it is important to acknowledge the root from which these desires stem. Even if I know that uprooting myself and placing new, tentative tendrils into a different soil would be very painful and trying, for all that I may gain in the process, I think the mad longings for 'other,' visions of other places and the promise they bring, is more than my itchy wanderer's foot kicking in.
It is also a sign that I am not made for permanent residence in this city. It moves too quickly. There are too many distractions. The noise fills my head and pulls me from what I hold near in my heart. And that, I think, may be why I was worn out without realizing it. I love living here. I love the distractions, I love my friends, I love exploring. So I ignored the 'hidden' toll, and while I may be overdramatizing [who? me? *innocent.* Haha, right.], and while I know that you are only young once, still, I believe, ultimately, a little more peace, a little more quiet, a little bit slower, is ultimately what I am looking for.
Gratitude: To family. To friends. To nature. To beauty. To color. To creating. To reading. To self-awareness and self-knowledge. To growth. To connections. To laughter. To hikes. To the memories. To good food and good company. To new experiences.
A roof over my head, a full belly, gainful employment, clothes to wear, an active mind, an engaged heart, enough left over for creativity. And love. Mostly to love.