I am hardly a free spirit, run with the wind, bathe in the ocean kinda girl. I know it looks that way, even to myself. Truth is, I think too much, I calculate, compute, and talk about step six before I’ve taken step one.
Life changes you though, and forces your zone past comfort and when you get used to that boundary, it moves again. Sometimes God gives you a family, with a husband who needs to surf like he needs to eat, a son whose favorite directive is Outside! and a daughter with adventure pumping faster than her legs.
On our honeymoon, we spent three weeks in my city, San Francisco. I had left my heart there, as the story goes, and I spent a significant amount of time trying to convince my new husband that his heart might like to keep mine company and since our hearts were there well maybe our ears and feet and, oh hey let’s just relocate our entire bodies to the city by the bay, whaddya say?
He said maybe. There are waves, I argued. It’s nice, he said. One day? Maybe.
I knew it was futile, but so much of me was still there, I couldn’t leave her without a fight. I grew up in this city. I went from kid to kind of legal to legitimately buying alcohol at the liquor store next door. At the cafe up the street, I could take up an entire table with my books and highlighters and OChem models. The place could be full and the owner would just bring me fries and tell me to study hard. I learned to drive in San Francisco, mastered parallel parking as a means of survival. I had roots! San Francisco was home, wasn’t it?
When we landed back on Oahu, we proceeded directly to our favorite beach. The sun was shining, the waves were firing. It was, what’s the word? Oh yah, perfect. I had fought this life, and here it was. It was undeniably mine and the peace overwhelmed me. As clear as the sky was that day, I heard God say, you are home.
We found three sunrise shells that week; one in a lifetime is rare. I had brought my heart with me this time, and left my memories instead, faded images of who I used to be.
I think of San Francisco with the fondness and familiarity of an old friend. We sit on my deck drinking lemonade, talking about the days of yesteryears. Except, the view is strikingly beautiful and I’m quickly distracted. Well, it was good to see you, I rush goodbye with my former self.
My life now is poetic in its chaos. I rarely parallel park, but I can if I need to. We’re always late, but I must still remind myself to slow down. I still think too much and overanalyze everything, but I also run with the wind because my family does, and I’ll run anywhere with them.