I really thought I would be writing more about the DC to SF transition. Reality, it seems, is a little different than intention. Even as I write this post I think about the fact that it has been over two months since I left DC, my home for over 7 years, and joined Michal, who had been here since we arrived from our drive across the country at the end of December. I remember waiting for Christmas as a kid and how long just a few days would seem to take. Hours would never seem to end then. Now, at the ripe old age of 29 I can not believe how quickly the days pass. I woke up, unpacked some boxes, and now its April.

I will say it has been a great experience so far and not a day goes by that we don’t think our selves lucky to live in such a beautiful and interesting city. We have been trying to make the most of the sites and are balancing whether we feel more like tourists or locals. Either way the sun, the sites, and the food are there for everyone.

But its not the sites and the sounds so much as the movement of a place that makes it what it is. There are streets here that seem to be transplanted from Manhattan, hills that seem to take on an almost Greek feel. Its the little things that characterize the individuality of a living city, just as it is the individual makeup of muscles that allow us to walk.

I’ve been thinking about home a lot lately and have been struggling to find its meaning. The dichotomy between home, the location in which you keep your possessions and the place in which you are connected at an emotional level brings up an interesting series of questions. If home is where the heart is then why do we feel a longing for a connection to a location? How do we connect to our place and create home? Why is it that when we change our address we might keep all the belongings and the people involved, but merely the change of physical location involves a change in our perception? 

No answer yet but I will be looking into this as we further settle in and find our place in this crazy world.