Keep the Car Running

In so many ways, I can hardly believe that I’m leaving California. I’ve been there for more than ten years, and it only seems a day — yet things have changed so much for me while I’ve been there, from the day I arrived with a car of my belongings as a new graduate student up through today.Along the way, I’ve realized, I fell in love with California; there’s something about it that is so very, very right for me. Which fascinates me, because I don’t feel like I “instantly fit in” with exactly any one group of people out there (which is probably a good thing); I’m not a neo-hippie, nor a Silicon Valley tech-head looking to make his millions, nor a Marina up-and-coming neo-yuppie. I’m my own thing. But it’s in the Bay Area that, somehow, that manages to fit in more than any place I’ve ever been; my thirst for interesting and different people is perhaps the biggest single piece of that, and it’s there that I’ve found more of those than any other.My life has changed so much in even the past four months, too. I think back to what my plans were four months ago, three months ago, two months ago, and one month ago, and they’re all very, very different from each other — astonishingly so, in fact. How did I end up here? The same way you end up anywhere in life — one twist after another, one choice following another choice. And yet I’m convinced, more than ever, that this is precisely, exactly the right thing for me, right here, right now; there is nothing else in the world more right for me right now. I’ve made the right choices. Even as I stare off into the future, facing only the unknown, I know that more than anything else. It is the right thing for me, right here, right now.Sometimes I think staring off into a vast, unknown future — giving yourself literally no idea where you’re going to do, what you’re going to do — is the best thing of all, the most important thing you can possibly do. It forces you to figure out where your heart truly lies, and follow it. It forces you to figure out what’s good for you and what isn’t. It forces you to reach out, to chase down the things you truly need, to discern the difference between the few things that are truly essential in life and all the rest. It’s in this emptiness, this unknown, this purity of spirit, that you can find what you truly care about and what you truly need.It’s here that I want to give an enormous “thank you” to all my friends over the past couple of months and especially the past two weeks; friends old and new alike have come out of the woodwork to make me happier and make my life better, whether just by spending a little (or a lot of) time together or by more direct, practical means (I’m looking at you, Mary and Andy!). I feel blessed in ways I didn’t quite understand before, and happy to have these memories in my heart, whether they’re of people I’ll see again and again and again or of people that, perhaps, will remain just that — memories in my heart. Either way, you’ve all been absolutely wonderful, and I feel privileged to have known every single one of you.There’s more to say, so, so much more to say, but, for now, I’ll post this from this hotel room in Price, UT and keep writing. I have pictures of this trip that are coming up, too, and so much more to say. Watch this space. It won’t be empty for long now.