Without fail for much of my young life, at least once a year I would reread all of my journal entries. It was both a soul enriching as well as cringe-worthy experience. It’s been a couple years since I’ve done that. Today, I happened upon an entry of another entry, both ten years apart.
23 July 2017
It’s 10 AM today. The year is 2017. Ten years ago today on a Monday, I was sitting on a bench on Bridgeway Avenue (though at that time I didn’t know the name of the street) in Sausalito. My dear cousin had just gotten married two days prior, and I was reflecting upon the weekend. Among the many thoughts that dominated my mind that morning, one thought that kept resurfacing was that someday I would move to this quaint, idyllic, little town next to the water that stood watch over San Francisco. Perhaps I would retire here. Seven years later, I would drive with my dog 2800 miles from Chicago to move here. Ten years later, “retirement” looks a lot like “work”; and I’ve never been happier. And now, it’s entirely possible that I will be moving back to the place I’d called home for twenty years. Windy City, here we come.
10:00 AM 23 July 2007
Sitting on a wooden bench along a quiet road sitting by the bay in Sausalito. Save for the intermittent sounds of cars driving by, the waters rushing against the rocks beneath my feet accompany my ears. In the distance, two boats cruise on by, a sailboat even further sailing away. White, puffy clouds provide a blanket over the Golden Gate. A cool breeze runs through the air. Both to the left and the right are rolling hills populated with colourful two and three story homes with large bright green trees filling in the gaps. The sun shines extra bright and hot, hand-in-hand with the brilliant sky blue. It is beautiful.
I search for other spots in my memory where I felt like this, saw something this beautiful. I’m happy to note that I have, but that does not lessen the beautiful painting in front of me. On any other Monday, I would be at the office in Chicago. Today is different.”
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