I’ve clearly fallen back to the “overthink it and never end up doing it” side of blogging from my previous snuggly home over on the “don’t think about it at all just vomit it out and hit publish” side. I’m sure there’s a happy medium between the two I just haven’t had luck yet putting my finger on it. What I do know is it turns out you can’t say “I’m going to blog every day” and “I’m only going to blog well written thought out and edited pieces” and expect that to happen overnight. Or in the next day or two. I guess it’s more of a gradual change from one to another. But I’m done talking about blogging for the moment.
For the first time since I first set foot in SoCal Los Angeles hasn’t been feeling like home. It’s a weird thing to describe, I love this city like no other I’ve ever lived in. When describing that to people in the past I would usually note that I moved around a lot as a kid and once I moved out on my own I kind of kept up that pattern. I’d be in an apartment for a little over a year, or in a city for around 3 years before I started feeling the urge to move on. That all changed when I moved to LA and it was the first time that I could remember that I just felt at home the moment I got here. Years later I felt that same spark when I’d go on a trip and come back. I thought this meant I found the place I’d probably be forever. But that’s all changed in the past few months.
There’s many things that probably play into that – my amazing girlfriend living in another city; the fact that I sold my car last year and now commute by bike and the increasingly hot weather here makes it less than fun to get around many hours of the day; the fact that I recently moved back into an apartment I lived in for years in a past life; the fact that I went from a fairly free travel schedule to being constantly stressed about who would take care of the cats I suddenly ended up with and need find a home for; and just that I’ve lived here for almost 8 years now which is almost twice as long as I lived anywhere else in my life. A few months ago I started thinking about what it would be like to live somewhere else. I didn’t get a good answer then, but the question was officially planted.
All this has me thinking a lot about new chapters in life. A few friends have moved recently, gotten married, sold companies, all kinds of things that begin new chapters in their lives and close up old ones. In books chapters are so clear, the text ends there’s some white space, and then a number signifying the next one. It would be awesome if things were that clear in life. What I know is that the last few times I’ve come back to LA I haven’t gotten that overwhelming wave of “I’m home!” and that’s something that I haven’t taken lightly. In fact it’s something I can’t really stop thinking about.
In addition to where I’m at I’ve been thinking about what I’m doing. It’s immensely important to me that I’m proud of what I’m doing each day, and that I feel like it’s making a difference. I don’t have much more to say about that right now – I think I just need to remind myself of that from time to time. I blame punk rock and hearing Ian MacKaye scream “What the fuck have you done?!” too many times as a kid. Of course I wouldn’t change a thing about that. It’s good to have a reason to keep pushing.
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