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.