Change is good...but making it sure ain't easy

Have you ever had a lover that made you feel simultaneously:
a. like you were shooting 100 cc's of dopamine 3x daily between meals and
b. like you were trying on the same damn pair of shoes over and over and over only to remember that they are a 1/2 size off

Well that's how I feel about my town right now. I'm not kiddin', it's downright tempestuous.

Honest to god I complain about dressing head to toe in wool all summer, I complain that I can't see my mailbox through the soupy fog, I complain that waiting in line at Whole Foods for 15 minutes is JUST TOO LONG and that with every second I spend in traffic so grid-locked I don't move out of first gear, the very essence of my small-town girl soul is slowly ebbing with the retreating tide.

For all intents and purposes, it's time for a change.

And then, magically, the sun comes out and I've instantly forgiven my town for any trespasses against me I've ever claimed. Gone. Irretrievable. The fog ain't all that bad. Traffic? It's a meditation. Chilly? It's good for my Pitta firey dosha...balances me. Yep, everything is just hunky dorey here in the beautiful San Francisco Bay Area.

Recently, my husband Mike and I had a naked gun day. We call them naked gun days because of that movie from the 80's where the couple is shown dining out, going on cruises, taking walks in the mountains, touring museums, on a train in the countryside...and you think it is the span of like a three year relationship but it is actually just one afternoon? Well we occasionally (ahem, often) have naked gun days here in the Bay Area and they remind us of all the reasons why so many people LOVE living here.

We started out on our road bikes from our house in the Berkeley Hills and we rode down the hill to the little local farmer's market in our neighborhood to have a quick fresh-baked pastry and shot of espresso. Fueled up for the first leg of our ride we took the bay trail along the shore where kite boarders hung suspended beneath colorful sails and just the tips of buildings were becoming visible across the bay in San Francisco as the morning fog began its slow daily retreat. We rode as close to the bay bridge as possible then hopped on BART, peeled off our first layers of wool and got off at the first San Francisco stop where we emerged from underground smack dab into the middle of the Gay Pride Parade in full swing.

Perhaps it's just the nature of Gay Pride Parades everywhere but they are a spectacle to be reckoned with! There were whips, chains, leather dusters with nothing underneath, large breasted women, small breasted women, one-breasted women, piercings in all imaginable locations, men that were half-women, women that were half-men, steel contraptions affixed to penises in all shapes, colors and sizes, long term married couples with children, politicians and celebrities flying rainbow flags, old folks, infants, fluffy pink bunny suits with giant Samoan men inside them, 80 year old women riding banana seat bikes with nothing on but crowns...you get the idea. People-watching at its finest.


From there we rode along the Embarcadero to the ferry building for a late morning snack of oysters on the half shell, sparkling lemonade and a quick sunshine session (get it while you can!) and then made our way along Crissy Field and over the Golden Gate Bridge. From there we rode a heart-stoppingly gorgeous 30 mile loop along the coast and through the Marin Headlands before making our way back home to Berkeley, stopping only for a fabulous early supper at a hip cafe near our house. We arrived back at our house sunburned, windburned, fogburned and with that delicious tired feeling you get after a really fun day. Or as my niece says, "rhully rhully fun."

Perhaps because since leaving my home in Washington State for college, I've never until now lived anywhere for 8 consecutive years and I've actually had time to develop a deep love for the Bay Area. The kind of love that makes you forget, in one instant, that you had any complaints the moment before. The kind of love that, on good days, makes your heart swell to the point of bursting and on bad days swear that Omaha, Nebraska really is where it's at.





I listened to myself tell a friend the other day..."change is good"...and I felt like an imposter. Like I was posing as someone who actually practices what she preaches.

Oh sure, I'm a huge fan of radical change and I do believe with all my heart that change IS good. But does it make it any easier? I'm having trouble making change and it's all because I live somewhere that I simultaneously love wildly and would love to leave.


If I do ever leave, I'll certainly be leaving my heart in San Francisco....at least a big piece. But isn't that what it's all about?
Bronwen