A different kind of autumn
Fall in Boston is delivered by a frenzy of fresh-faced college kids (and the cavalry of Uhauls they drive) followed by the sun-draped discoloration of our red maples and yellow birches. Here is San Francisco fall is known by the light. It's far sunnier in early September compared to the moodier August but it's a light that is steady, golden, slanted. Seasonal changes here are subtle and I'm told there is no noticeable change in color and that the leaves stay green year-round. With my rudimentary science, I know that conifers are green and that deciduous trees lose their leaves. Does this town buck the basic laws of botany?
In many native american cultures, the direction of the WEST corresponds to the element of WATER which corresponds to the season of FALL. According to Bear Heart who wrote the wonderful tome, The Wind Is My Mother, "West is the direction of gratitude. When the sun goes down in the West, it's the benediction of another day. At the end of each day, stand facing West and say, "Thank you for all the things that happened today, the good as well as the bad." Why be grateful for the bad? Because there was a lesson in it. Try to find that lesson and grow from it. If you let difficulties bother you all the time, you're building a wall around yourself."
There have been times here in this strange, outrageous city where I've wanted to build walls or call it quits. The reasons are many and will be dished out in small doses over future blog posts but not today. On Friday I dared to eat a peach and faced the reality that my pink cloud had burst and the novelty of San Francisco had lost its sheen like an overworn hoodie. But in that realization was relief that I can now focus with clearer eyes and take inventory of everything I love, like and dislike about the Barbary Coast. And I can rest assured that every time I complain I am exercising the right of every native San Franciscan. Too often we wait for others to give us permission. But that way doesn't work for me anymore because I now know that the "right" answer doesn't exist. So I'm giving it the old college try. I'm putting a little hustle into my step in seeking a better life. I'm laying down real roots in transient California. And whenever I'm feeling lost, I can pivot to the West and be grateful for the Pacific Ocean.
In many native american cultures, the direction of the WEST corresponds to the element of WATER which corresponds to the season of FALL. According to Bear Heart who wrote the wonderful tome, The Wind Is My Mother, "West is the direction of gratitude. When the sun goes down in the West, it's the benediction of another day. At the end of each day, stand facing West and say, "Thank you for all the things that happened today, the good as well as the bad." Why be grateful for the bad? Because there was a lesson in it. Try to find that lesson and grow from it. If you let difficulties bother you all the time, you're building a wall around yourself."
There have been times here in this strange, outrageous city where I've wanted to build walls or call it quits. The reasons are many and will be dished out in small doses over future blog posts but not today. On Friday I dared to eat a peach and faced the reality that my pink cloud had burst and the novelty of San Francisco had lost its sheen like an overworn hoodie. But in that realization was relief that I can now focus with clearer eyes and take inventory of everything I love, like and dislike about the Barbary Coast. And I can rest assured that every time I complain I am exercising the right of every native San Franciscan. Too often we wait for others to give us permission. But that way doesn't work for me anymore because I now know that the "right" answer doesn't exist. So I'm giving it the old college try. I'm putting a little hustle into my step in seeking a better life. I'm laying down real roots in transient California. And whenever I'm feeling lost, I can pivot to the West and be grateful for the Pacific Ocean.
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