As my eyes slowly open, I turn in my Hot Sexiness sleeping bag, my newest comfort of choice and treat to myself at an Alite sample sale in December, to see the bright blue of a California sunny day peering through the off white cotton curtains of my newest abode. With soft orange walls that are spotted with uneven texture and a certain vintage feel, the 15 foot ceilings make the small-ish room seem almost spacious.I moved into this, my second home, and fourth bedroom of 2011 last Saturday, as I had been staying in a variety of rooms at the Goddess Vortex (see "Home Sweet Yogi Home" the summer) since the clocks struck midnight for this new year.
New year. Happy year. What will it hold? There’s something that has shifted. Since the YOP blog has been on hiatus for almost 4 months, first for logistical reasons (internet joys in India) then upon return, a myriad of reasons which span a touch of laziness to perhaps the more truthful reason being of lack of inspiration, or dare I say….passion?
I am musing to myself about the fate of the YOP in a new neighbourhood café, Atlas Café on Alabama and 20th – just 2 blocks from my new orange lily pad.
Somewhat industrial, yet with the unique San Francisco, Mission
bike cultured charm (I’d like to say half of those that have come in have their right pant cuff rolled up to mid calf level and a few Mexican workers hold down prep work in the open kitchen that doubles as pull-up bar seating, its casual atmosphere and bright single paned windows which line the corner it occupies offers a welcome infiltration of sun into the space.At American Thanksgiving in late November, a true gluttony fest anchored in over sugared yams and cranberries for all reasons, I was asked by a former bon bon at the vegan (gluten-free) Thanksgiving potluck I hosted on the Friday of the holiday weekend, “What happened to the Year of Passion?” By that time, I had been back in SF for 1 month since my return from India, and had given very little thought to writing. Much of my time in India was spent writing, although in the earthy ink to paper way, in various locations around the city, countryside and waterways, in an unfiltered, uncensored way that we only write when knowing there is a slim chance that it will ever really be read…in life or post mortum. So when returning to land of the YOP, SF, the writer (and photographer) in me, was, like much of the rest of my senses, exhausted. With a hot hand, and hot shutter, I put down the laptop and the Nikon, and took in the moment, captured in my mind alone. The outcome? A twinge of guilt for neglecting the Year of Passion, but now even more of a desire for the introspective dialogue that only the YOP harvested in me...
It was during the beautiful, vegan Thanksgiving Potluck dinner, peppered with dim tea lights, warm smiles and many handles of Carlo Rossi vino tinto, it was my former Bon Bon’s sister who brought something quite clear to my attention about the state of writing: “I only seem to write when I’m upset, or unclear, or struggling with something – and much less, if ever when truly happy”
Mmmm. Had I stopped writing because, dare I even toy with the idea: I was truly happy? Had I achieved the year of passion? Here I was surrounded by some of the most inspiring, loving, warm, interesting, engaged, engaging people I’ve met and whom I care deeply for in a city I love for its consciousness, adventurous spirit, openness, vitality and living a life under a hot, liberal sun where outdoors and casualness is king. Had I arrived?
The idea was almost too novel, too real to handle. I had been 7 months since I had embarked on the YOP, tucked away in a cubicle 43 floors up in the glass jungle of full piece suits, dreaming about the freedom of sailing away on a little dingy in the sun on the lake. A lot has happened since then, and a lot has changed, but was I, am I, living the Life of Passion?
???
It's almost noon now, and am about to go for a lunchtime loop bike ride around SF with Denny, a new friend whom I met at a Clif Bar RSVP Facebook event in October (yes, I think I got that right & thanks Todd) and smile as the coincidence that this re-awakening entry about the destination and journey of the Year of Passion is at the ATLAS cafe, a place literally seeped in the idea of maps and charting of paths, routes and journeys.
