Nostalgia for the Now

This was written 4 days ago when the sun was actually shining, unlike today. Sorry for the delayed post, but funemployment makes for a busy life!

It’s days like today when I ponder why on earth I’m leaving one of the most beautiful places in the world. The sun is shining. Birds are chirping. Dogs are frolicking amongst the daisies. I’m sitting in Alamo Square Park, with views of the Transamerica building, the painted ladies, and weeping willows dancing with the summer breeze. People save money for months just to spend a few days in this amazing place and I am eagerly catching the midnight train to elsewhere. How is it that this trek to unravel my life and unearth myself of all my possessions has come so easily?

Well, it hasn’t. Every time I see a friend or go to a favorite restaurant I secretly wonder if and when I will experience that moment again. I have early-onset nostalgia… nostalgia for the present, if you will. So why in the world am I leaving this place that holds so much enjoyment, so many friends and so much comfort in the familiar?

It’s exactly the notion of the familiar that is the reason I must go. I remember a sociology class from my sophomore year of college where we discussed the concept of upward mobility. I couldn't understood why the “lower class” perpetuated itself. Why were there only a handful of individuals who had aspirations beyond their pre-ordained social plight? The answer, which I could barely begin to understand at age 19, is complacency. The idea that people are creatures of habit and are apt to take the path of least resistence is a notion that unsettled my nerves even then. I thought to myself that I never want to become complacent. It’s too easy to settle into the life that’s given instead of challenging yourself to attain what's not. A comment a friend’s father made at my college graduation has stuck with me for years. He said that the best things in life never come easy. It may be trite, but it’s true.

So where does that leave me? For now, it leaves me sitting in Alamo Square with the feeling that it may be months or days or years before I sit on this same patch of grass and appreciate another beautiful San Francisco day. And I may travel half way around the world only to realize that everything I need and want is right here. Ironic indeed. But if we all paid attention to a Nissan ad campaign from years ago, we would wisely know that life is a journey, not a destination.