49 Feelings of San Francisco
49 Feelings of San Francisco
Learning to come alive and be still
“If you’re alive, you can’t be bored in San Francisco. If you’re not alive, San Francisco will bring you to life.” —William Saroyan
Today marks my four year anniversary of moving to San Francisco. In celebration of completing my “senior year” as a San Franciscan, I originally planned to write a love letter to SF. But, as I wrote, I realized that life in the Bay hasn’t been all about the warm and fuzzies — and that’s the beauty of it. What I’m most grateful to SF for is the way it’s deepened my capacity to feel things and come alive.
It’s pushed me towards exploring my edges, redefining what I thought was possible, and set me free from the expectations of who I should be.
Instead of a love letter to the city that’s given me access to a spectrum of feelings I was previously numb to, I’ve curated a list of feelings in honor of each month I’ve lived here (and a bonus one to round out to 49 as a nod to the city):
49 feelings brought to me by life in San Francisco
The sense of infinite possibility and shared belief the future's ours to build
The agency and optimism that permeates all areas of my life
The joy that spending time with friends is more about park picnics and intimate salons than loud bars and boozy brunches
The invitation to make friends and building community however I’d like as friendships take form around social circles over exclusive friend groups
The feeling of being seen by friends as conversations find their way into the depths of inner work
The pride I’ve developed for being an Asian American woman and reassurance that the shame I’ve carried for being different growing up is ubiquitous
The hilarity of debating the perennial question, "What are your thoughts on San Francisco versus New York?" and always concluding that SF is more our speed
The regret I should have brought an extra, extra layer because the jacket I did bring isn't enough to keep me warm from the evening chill that settles in the city
The vindication of encouraging a friend who’s visiting SF to bring an extra layer, them looking at me skeptically and saying this is California, then thanking me that evening
The exhilaration of avoiding Fisherman's Wharf and Union Square at all costs when hosting that friend and introducing them to our favorite neighborhoods surrounding the Panhandle
The anticipation before a trip to Tahoe, wondering if the drive will take 4 or 8 hours
The gratitude for living in a state with more national parks than any other state
The curiosity whether we’ve all truly gotten softer or if the Bay Area cold hits different
The recognition that maybe we all have softened our hardened edges, but it’s that softening that’s given us the capacity to feel more deeply
The longing for some semblance of four seasons, inspiring us to create ways to celebrate the passage of time
The comfort of slowing down in a world that constantly demands speed
The autonomy to wear whatever I want to wear (probably athleisure) because no one in the city of SF cares
The acceptance that SF is more of a sleepy town than the center of the universe and learning to love an early bedtime
The stillness that early mornings bring before the city's awake and traces of eucalyptus linger in the air
The ease of being an outdoorsy person by walking through a neighborhood and onto urban hikes in the middle of the city
The serenity of going on walks to meander through parks and urban hikes rather walking with a purpose, New York City-style
The rebelliousness of running down the middle of a Slow Street and JFK Drive, comforted by the fact that I’m (mostly) safe from cars
The excitement of stumbling upon a new trail in Golden Gate Park
The liveliness and buzz of the city on a day that tops 62°F
The exhaustion of hiking up a hilly street and consequent confusion as to how my leg muscles still haven't adapted to the city's gradient
The solidarity of peddling down the Wiggle with the rest of the cyclists as we all avoid the massive hills on our way home
The nostalgia for my days shutting down the 101 to South Bay as a tech shuttle drives past me and the consequent relief that I now have the privilege to work remotely
The perpetual fascination as I walk past a self-driving car and other beta products in the wild
The acknowledgment that life in SF can engulf me into a bubble and actively prioritizing ways to give back to the community and local organizations
The fulfillment of discovering and becoming one with a new hobby that's made possible by SF's climate and culture
The tranquillity of being alone together as we pour our hearts out onto our screens and into our journals at Writing Cub
The delightful spontaneity of running into friends as they wander into The Commons or The Center
The boundaries we're working on setting when "let's co-work" inevitably devolves into a deep catch up session
The relief we’re all trying to travel less and prioritize rooting down in the city
The appreciation that a pervading love language is sending a calendar invite to confirm a hang out
The thrill of Partiful invites taking over and finally giving us the permission to stop checking Facebook
The maturity in supporting friends' full body yeses when committing to activities over guilt tripping each other
The fear moments before running into the Bay and diving headfirst into the cold plunge
The frustration as Karl the Fog settles in Cole Valley for the 30th foggy day of the summer and escaping on a bike ride to Marin, but reminding myself that SF summer is still better than east coast winter
The fearlessness as I fly down Hawk Hill towards Golden Gate Bridge, reveling in the warmth before the windy ride back over the Bridge
The awe of seeing the Golden Gate Bridge from any angle, but especially coming over Lower Pac Heights and through the Robin Williams Tunnel
The slight nausea that emerges as we drive down the windy roads towards Stinson Beach for a hike
The wonder and feeling of vastness as I overlook the Pacific coast towards what seems like the edge of the world on a spectacular hike
The quietude that descends upon the city as everyone heads home for the holidays
The butterflies of coming home as I land in SFO after time away from the city
The contentment in admitting that despite missing aspects of the east coast, San Francisco feels like home
The hopefulness that we’ll build an intergenerational community with our friends and raise our kids together in this city
The love for SF despite all its flaws and imperfections
And most meaningfully, the freedom to become more myself