that old suitcase

in york, pennsylvania i finally decided to leave san francisco behind. in a moment of clarity, i realized that i had been carrying san francisco around with me like a suitcase full of rocks. and by carrying this old suitcase around with me - until my shoulders ached and my neck got stiff and my hands burned - i was forgetting to look up to see where i am going.

so i left it. i put the suitcase down and i left it in york.

i left it because i'm learning that people outside of california love the ocean too. people outside of california love the beach and the sun and the mountains. they love to eat good, locally grown food. they strive to live well and eat well and love well. they build community and laugh and slow down long enough to drink a good cup of coffee with friends. i left it because there are people in boston for me to love and be loved by. there is community here that i need to find and make. there are restaurants that i need to try and unique stores i need to browse through and photographs i need to take. because i realized that the only way i could truly ever go back and build a new life in california is if i let go of what my life was and dive into what my life now is.

i see now that i've been afraid to let go of san francisco because san francisco is a place that taught me so much about who i am. i've been afraid that letting go and moving forward would mean losing a part of myself that i've only just discovered.

but then i met up with a best friend in new york city, nervous that it would be different only to learn that is wasn't at all. i finally saw that all the ways we lived and loved and grew in san francisco have become a part of who we are no matter where we are. that sometimes community is strong enough to stretch for thousands of miles. that i could take the train with her to her hometown, share meals with her and her parents, see the buildings and rolling hills that made up her childhood, and feel even more connected than i did when our relationship was just in san francisco. we could still cry together and laugh together and learn even more what it means to love without condition and to open our hearts to another fragile, broken human being.

i'm wondering what might happen when i start practicing the art of acceptance. maybe my life looks nothing like what i dreamed it would when i was a little girl - or even six months ago. but maybe those dreams were lacking in something that i will only find through acceptance that moves to faith that moves to hope that moves to joy and love and life.

because i think if there's any real way for me to honor the life i had in san francisco - the love i found, the community i was a part of, the Gospel i was retaught - it is to let go and move forward. to dig in while i'm here. to become a part of God's story of redemption in boston.

and that's just not going to happen if i tire myself out carrying around this old suitcase.