i wish it would've rained today. i wish it would've poured and stormed until the streets were slick and spotted with puddles. the sound of drops against my umbrella would've cured today--it would've drummed away the doubt and distaste of it all.
instead, i walked home with my thoughts until an elderly frenchman stopped me and asked to use my cell phone to call a friend. i said, of course. i dialed the number he'd written in pencil on a piece of notepaper that was rubber-banded to his pocketbook. and i stood there watching his mouth make french sounding english words. a minute later, it was over. his striped, collared shirt and herringbone jacket made their way toward their destination. and there i was again, still unsure of mine.
everything is in your head when you think about it. the elation. the anxiety. the calm and the cavernous unknowing. for whatever reason, that very concept is striking me as pretty pivotal. thinking about thoughts about thinking. metacognition is a conundrum.
it's a wonderful thing, experiencing a new place for the first time. lately, i've made it a point to put myself where i've imagined being. to take baby steps outside the box and breath new clouds all over san francisco. yesterday, twin peaks. today, city lights (where i've been meaning to drop in for two and a half years!). i left both locations clutching something--a hand, a book--knowing that i'd be back. but it's the first time, isn't it? that first glimpse of a city made vastly small in the distance. that first crunch of a hard-bound spine. you will retrace and relive those moments over and over. before you know it, they'll have a heartbeat all their own.
this week i've made it a goal to go back to bikram. more than knowing how much i love being there when i actually go, i want to get better at practicing my own advice. i continually encourage those around me to be their own motivation. to believe in themselves--to make and pursue great goals.