memories lost and found

As I walked through the mission recently, I decided to take Mission Street, which is unusual. I always take Valencia. Tonite, I wanted to feel something different. I know it seems strange, what difference is there between two parallel streets in the same neighborhood. Quite a lot really. Mission street is still gritty in a way that Valencia somehow has managed to shed, with its shiny new eateries and hipster clothing boutiques.

Whether that is good or bad, is not for me to say. Being someone who used to live in the neighborhood almost twenty years ago, I might be able to make some pronouncements about the obvious and not so obvious (are there any of those?) changes, but I chose this time just to be an observer; feeling the city’s energy instead of passing judgements on it. There are definitely more parking garages and condos that line this old street than in years past, but it somehow continues to retain its rough around the edges charm. The kind of charm that is not necessarily inviting, but draws you in somehow, and over time becomes familiar, even comfortable.

Mexican music wafts from the crowded store fronts, people stand around and chat at the end of their days. There is a cocophany of smells and sounds that assault the senses, not always that pleasant, but grounded in what it means to be in the Mission.

Before I knew it, there I was. 21st St. and Mission St., just two blocks from my old place. For a split second, I felt it. That 23 year old girl’s hopes and dreams. The wonder of a new home; so much to explore, and a total embrace of a new life. And as soon as it came, it again went.

What’s beautiful about those fleeting moments, is the promise that I can always tap into them. It’s so easy to forget about what it feels like to be new, a little unsteady, but with a world of possibility at your fingertips. I like to think I haven’t lost my feverish excitement to be here, but instead of wondering what life might be like, today I am looking back at memories of amazing times I have had.

I continue to hold my fingers to their ulitmate purpose, reaching out to grab at the promise of a hopeful future. What are you reaching out for?