Two weeks ago I flew to San Francisco. I spent a couple days there before flying back to Tucson to pick up the kids from my in-laws and fly home. It was an eye opening trip. Thursday due to flight delays I was in airports for seven hours. I read an entire chapter book- in one day. That hasn’t happened since before Scotland was born. Friday, Tom was at his neurology conference all day, so I had the day solo to explore the city. I woke up when I woke up, did some yoga, had a cup of tea while I ready my scriptures, and got ready. I bought a MUNI pass- jumped on the subway and headed out. I walked along the high-end market stalls in the Ferry Building, lingering to savor the samples of $12 bars of chocolate- without having to wipe faces, and hands, and clothes. I stalled to take in the diversity of mushrooms- no one complained. I took pictures without being pulled off balance. I didn’t buy breakfast- I didn’t want to waste time, and no one was begging me to. I explored the Embercado area, then took a street car north so I could climb the Filbert steps. I got off a stop early, and jogged the rest of the way, because I could. A goofy smile was smeared across my face. I couldn’t help it. I was in San Francisco, the sun was shining, the air brisk, fresh! I had an entire day to myself. I felt both stressed and exhilarated. How to make the most of it?! I climbed the steps, stopping from time to time to turn around and take in the view of the bay. I side tracked and walked down skinny alleyways between houses, admiring the enormous succulents, and new-to me plants. I imagined life in those homes- etched into a cliff, overlooking the bay. I had pleasant flashbacks to a trip to Cinque Terre, with it’s similar cliff dwellings, and steep narrow streets. I climbed all the way to the top arms swinging, mouth smiling, mind free. Wait, arms swinging, such a strange sensation. It was at this point in the day, an hour in, that I realized how strange it was to have NO one else to consider that day. My whims would guide the day. No time would be wasted discussing the merits of this or that decision, no energy spent trying to choose based on the others’ perceived desires. I would just go, do, enjoy. At that point I let go of any stress or pressure and decided to just take it all in. I took the elevator up Coit tower. I leaned out the windows (far enough that the attendant had to warn me!) feeling the fresh ocean breeze, and taking in the gorgeous 360 of San Francisco. Such a gorgeous city. The details of the day are less interesting than the feeling I had- such freedom, such abandon. I took busses the wrong direction, and walked too long in ordinary neighborhoods. I didn’t do things in the best order, and I ate nothing but granola bars until 5:00pm. But there was no one but me to worry about, no one complained, demanded, begged. The change was shocking. And yet I wasn’t gleeful about the absence of my children- in reality I melted every time I saw a child, and teared up a bit when a 2 year old darling with blonde curls danced around in Coit Tower. I wished Tom was there to share the view, and found myself focusing on things the boys would find interesting- double decker bridges, the variety of public transit options, decorative dragons. But I was also surprised by how often I felt freed by the opportunity to actually pursue something that interested me- to linger in the garden, to examine the succulents, to read the plaque, without consequence.
Tom texted around 5:15- “Where are you!?” My day alone had come to an end. An exciting dinner date awaited. I jumped on the side of a cable car, holding on to the bar, and resisting the urge to lean out and start singing. An older man, asked me curiously, “Do you feel comfortable there?” “Oh. I feel great!”