And then California tried to kick my &ss

There's some truth in the song title California Dreamin'. I've met a lot of people in San Francisco that moved here as a young adult to pursue or follow a dream. Silicon Valley, especially, is full of myths and legends. From Gold Rush days to the second tech boom (bubble?) of the 20-teens, California has offered a possibility of riches more seductive than perhaps anywhere else in the U.S. And many, many people have heard the call.

I am no exception. I was seduced. For me the draws were the creative innovation in business in addition to fulfilling a long time dream, the weather, the arts and culture, and a relationship. I moved from a place where change happens real slow and I never seemed to be on the inside of the great new enterprises or the well funded organizations. I figured I could stay and continue to struggle to make it or go to the center of growth in America and try to make it.

I'm still trying to make it. Let's see, I landed here on March 11. That's three months + a week ago. I had five weeks of temp work at a good rate that kept me in the black. But now my funds and patience are wearing thin again. And then California tried to kick my ass.

Last weekend I was hosting a friend visiting from Arizona. We stayed at an Airbnb in Oakland. We both had attended a conference there and wanted to support the local economy and preserve some of our own cash by staying in Oakland rather than San Francisco. After a day and evening of fun and food in San Francisco, we heading back to Oakland where we were mugged. These two men approached us from behind and demanded our bags. It was violating and scary. Not to mention inconvenient. The hassle was amplified by AT&T's outrageous lack of problem-solving. They were unwilling to help my friend and I replace our phones without ID so we could handle all the other logistics related to the loss of our credit and debit cards, IDs, etc. It's one thing when something like this happens where you know people and places but when you are new to a place or on vacation, you have very limited resources.

I'm not going to lie, my first reaction was to collect all my things and head back to Arizona. At least in my home town I know where the dangers are. In big cities you aren't intimately familiar with the dangers are potentially anywhere and everywhere. I took that for granted. I brought my acceptance and trust instead of my caution and vigilance.

As the week wore on and I kept previously scheduled appointments and a job interview and as my life started to recover with replacement credit cards, ID and phone arriving I felt less like bailing. Additionally the wisdom coming to me right now seems to be saying, "Stay the course."

I'm reading Wild by Cheryl Strayed. It's Cheryl's account of her attempt to hike the Pacific Crest Trail by herself. She runs into a lot of obstacles. These often seem insurmountable. And yet, each time she comes up against one of these obstacles she realizes the only thing to do is put one foot in front of the other and continue toward her goal. Nothing goes as she planned and she is flexible, abandoning parts of the trail when the risks seem too great. Basically when her life is in peril she chooses to preserve it. Other than that she endures physical pain, danger, dehydration and more, never giving up.

This reminds me of another piece of wisdom from this week coming from Ashton Kutcher (bet you didn't expect that). In an award acceptance speech he says to an audience of teenagers, "Opportunity looks a lot like hard work." He explains how he got where he is by working hard at each job. That essentially we create our own opportunties through how we live and work.

So, here I am, a stranger in a strange place. I'm a few friends stronger. My professional network is growing and I'm continuing to work hard to create opportunities so I can succeed here. I want what so many others want: to be able to look back and know I tried my damnedest to get what I want from this life.

An act of optimism

Moving to a new place from my familiar home is much harder than I could have understood. The hardest part is the loneliness that comes with not knowing more than a few people in a city of millions. It's becoming a small fish in a very large pond after being a whale in a bucket for years.

I lived in Tucson my whole life and had made many acquaintances especially in the two years prior to my relocation. I had a job that put me in the public eye and required me to meet and get to know many civic leaders, business owners and others. I was a community manager and spent a large portion of my time raising awareness of the organization that I worked for. That meant I was raising awareness of myself as a representative of that organization.

Now I am a face in the crowd and never bump into people I know while out getting a pint or catching some rays at the park on a sunny day. I don't get random hugs or high-fives.

I realized with certainty the second week I was here that had I not been intensely optimistic about this move I never would have made it. If I could have had an inkling of the psychological challenge of having so much time on my hands and struggling through shyness to meet people, I doubt I would have made this move. Perhaps I still would have moved but to a place where I have more people. When I set my sights on this move, a familiar  community was not my concern. It is San Francisco specifically that I am drawn to. Its climate and culture, architecture and landscape. Its big city energy and seemingly endless opportunities for innovation, creativity, work and play.

I do recommend–when you decide to move someplace new to pursue a dream–you move to a place with wonderful places to walk. Walking outside can do wonders for your mental health.

Writing the next chapter

Photo credit: Purple Nickel Studio

I landed in San Francisco a few weeks ago.

How did I get from beginning to start over to quitting my job, selling or packing everything I own, and moving to another city? I just decided to stop giving 100% to what I didn't really want. Thank you, Danielle LaPorte.

For months I felt there was something important missing from my daily life. I loved my work and felt strongly that I was contributing positively to my community. I was making an important difference and yet it wasn't enough. In part, it wasn't enough financially. The work load was out of balance with the reward. More importantly, I could not continue to help build on another person's dream.

My view of life changed drastically when my father died. I suddenly realized how finite life really is. And, more than that, how finite good health is. That message was strongly reinforced earlier this year when an acquaintance of mine fell ill and died. Jacob was my age (mid thirties) and healthy. He developed pneumonia and died. So, I decided I better start moving away from making things happen for others and begin figuring out how to make my own dreams come true.

No doubt there were many influences, moments, choices and feelings that brought me to be sitting in the San Francisco Public Library writing a new blog post. I will try to unpack all of that and capture my journey moving forward here.

I am now writing the next chapter–literally and figuratively. Thanks for joining me.