How did I end up here? A master lesson in following your intuition
Hello reader,
It is completely by random that I am sitting in this beautiful book laden home office typing these words onto the page. How did I end up here? I trusted my instincts completely, gently, steadily. I spotted a listing on a pet / house sitting website for 2 months in San Francisco from April - June, exactly the time I had predicted would feel right for me to be heading off on my next adventure. I wasn’t looking to head back to California so soon (flight prices - yelp) but I was drawn to everything about this listing; especially the owner Gali. We arranged a Zoom chat where we had the warmest conversation, and after an hour Gali said she would love for me to sit her senior bischon rescue ‘Cherry’. I felt a calm, ‘right’ feeling, like it was the natural thing to do. The next morning I logged on to the website and pressed ‘accept’. A week later I booked my flight, and 3 weeks later I am here.
I arrive at this gorgeous apartment which couldn’t feel more like home. The walls are covered in paintings by her father and the bookshelves packed with titles I have had firmly on my list including Mary Oliver and David Whyte. We spend our first afternoon together in lounge armchairs talking openly and honestly about life. She is curious, open, kind, connected; we could talk for hours. I learn that she grew up living in various parts of the world, and as an adult lived in Atlanta and worked as an international corporate lawyer, loving her work but rarely switching off. She is nearing the end of the memoir she is writing, which begins with her MS diagnosis. She is writing it ‘to feel witnessed’ and I have no doubt that an impact will be that it helps others too. I tell her that I know I am here to improve other’s experience of life by supporting them to understand themselves better. She tells me about the premonitions throughout her life that came true. I share my fertility story, about the twins that could have been, tears dripping off the end of my nose into my meatballs. She tells me she feels a little isolated here, that 10 years in it hasn’t been easy to meet ‘her people’. Two days later she jets off to Provence, and I feel sad that she’s leaving - I wish we had more time together to talk about life and what it means to be human. I think we were both meant to meet each other at this point in our lives.
I spend the next few days settling in, exploring my new town, attempting to learn the highway code and doting on Cherry, whilst I get used to the quiet. I’ve never lived alone before; I have 2 months ahead of me in a place I know nobody. For the first time in a year I watch TV - Ted Lasso season 3.
It feels like the best place to start is by reaching out to contacts of anyone I know! My friend Gemma now lives in Cheshire but used live in Silicon Valley and offers to put me in touch with her good friend. We arrange to meet for lunch in Palo Alto - another lovely town, right next to the Stanford Uni campus. I send her a cheesy picture of my face so she knows who to look out for as this is very much a blind date! I am greeted by an extremely warm and friendly woman, who offers me a big hug and exclaims ‘welcome to California’.
We eat delicious tapas and exchange life stories - she is a full time mother to two teens, I am single with no children and work on my own business full time. And yet we find common ground in the truth - that as women, we have both grown up in cultures that predetermine the path we feel we should choose; marriage and a family. She is movingly honest about the day to day ‘mind numbing monotony’ of raising children and the ‘shit show’ that navigating the teen years can be. I wonder how different parenting might feel if everyone felt they could tell the truth about their own experience, and had someone to tell the truth to? It is a delightful way to spend lunch, which she treats me to ‘as a welcome’. I am so grateful to meet this kind soul.
Waking up on my first Saturday morning I take a moment to be fully present in my situation. Cherry on my bed, pulling back the curtains to a cloudless sunny blue sky, surrounded by my beloved books, the weekend ahead of me - I realise I can do anything (without leaving Cherry for too long). It strikes me how different it feels to be temporarily ‘living’ somewhere rather than visiting on holiday. I can weave in the stuff I would usually love to do on a weekend - yoga, farmer’s market, brunch; whilst experiencing places and people for the first time. I feel extremely grateful that this is where I find myself - I whisper ‘thank you’ to Cherry for existing, and to Gali for trusting me.
It’s Earth Day so I decide to spend it outdoors, heading towards the popular coast of Half Moon Bay. Less than 10 mins from where I am living the road takes me along Skyline Drive, a stunning vista that could almost be compared to the Lakes - less dramatic mountains but endless pine covered hills and lakes. The road through the forests to the coast feels much further away from the city than it is - I pass a vineyard, stables, a christmas tree farm and a pumpkin patch which all have a yesteryear, rustic charm. Arriving in Half Moon Bay village I stumble into Cafe Society to get a takeaway coffee and a muffin for sustenance. It’s packed and there is an air of anticipation - about to begin is a ‘spoken word and poetry event’ to honour Earth Day. I find a chair and squeeze in at the front. My plan may have been to walk by the beach, but events like this simply don’t happen in my ‘normal life’, and that’s exactly why I am 5000 miles from home. The words written by speakers Lisa Rosenberg and Monika Korde stop time for me and offer such nostalgic grace and gratitude towards Mother Earth. Both speakers deliver their words with intonation that conveys such emotion. I am in rapture and would love to do the same….i’ll add spoken word to the list of ‘things to try’. I finally make it to the coast - it's stunning and deserves a repeat trip back to walk miles of its shores. I am conscious of getting back to Cherry so I head to Sam’s Chowder House to pick up their famous takeaway clam chowder and paprika-laden fries before heading home to my little fur ball.
As I am writing this at my 8am London Writer’s Salon session, their quote of the day is this:
“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute.
We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race.
And the human race is filled with passion. Medicine, law, business, engineering – these are noble pursuits. Necessary to sustain life.
But poetry. Beauty. Romance. Love. These are what we stay alive for.”
– John Keating (Robin Williams), ‘Dead Poets Society’
The next day I facetime my parents (my rock, my anchor and biggest cheerleaders) - they ask if I have felt lonely or alone yet? It's funny I say, I’ve noticed that I am indeed alone, how quiet it is and how spacious (empty!) my diary is, but I’ve not felt lonely yet. So far it still feels like having time for music, podcasts or TV and movies is a real treat. As Phil Stutz says in Jonah Hill’s documentary ‘if you can see that in every event there is value, there becomes endless opportunity’.
I quickly realise that pottering at the farmer’s market in my local town and exploring the lovely peninsula could easily mean this nature lover forgets that there is a major city on my doorstep, so I decide to seek out a yoga class in the city. I brave the 101 highway and head into the Mission area to a yoga studio called Haum. The gritty, vibey, thrum of the city is an assault on the senses, and quite honestly it's a culture shock, despite the reading I’ve done about the SF of today. It’s loud and busy with big groups of people hanging out on the streets - playing music, selling street food and vintage clothing. As much as I have been warned about the homeless community here, it is stark. I don’t feel threatened, but my super street-wise armour goes straight on - it is not exactly relaxing.
The yoga studio is in an ungainly office block which looks exactly like where I did my first temping jobs in 1999. And then I arrive on the 5th floor and it's dazzling. A secret serene world high above the craziness of the city. I survive a sweaty vinyasa class sandwiched between beautiful sound bowls and singing. The intention I set is to be open to guidance. In our savasana it comes clearly - “look after yourself well - learn - be open to what comes, and look out for the signs”. Got it :-)
I explore the neighbourhood a little and find the trendy part of Valencia Street - teeming with eateries that look delicious. The buildings are so recognisably San Fran, that scruffy, wooden, retro style.The golden late afternoon sun is dipping and there are trendy types everywhere and street art all around. I feel out of my comfort zone not knowing the area but am again reminded of the ‘zingyness’ of exploring; the way the blood runs through your veins a little bit quicker and your heart dances as your eyes take in something new. I treat myself to a spiced hot choc from Dandelion Chocolate and head back to my car; startled by a homeless man spitting in the face of a passing woman two metres away from me; it was a total fluke that she was the target and not me.
My second week is quiet, I don’t have any ‘friend dates’ and so my work days are punctuated with a walk into town for a coffee or an exercise class. I host an online workshop about nurturing your intuition and tell the story of me ending up here! I love it, the attendees love it and I am reminded that it is possible to gather and share and teach from anywhere in the world. Half way through the week I venture over to the next town, San Mateo to look for a cafe to work from for a few hours. I see a shop window that looks like heaven - art and ceramics and handmade jewellery. It’s called Golden Moon Gallery and I follow the pull to go in. The owners, an American couple called Nick and Ellen, are by far the friendliest people I have met so far on this trip. They are just back from Frankfurt, where Nick, a tattoo artist, was attending a convention. They spend at least half an hour sharing their top food tips around the peninsular, trying to make sure I have the best time possible. I leave with a skip in my step, little do they know it will be the longest conversation by far that I will have this week!
At the end of the week I decide I could do with another injection of human interaction so I pop into the local olive oil and balsamic vinegar shop to meet the owner, Eddie who Gali adores. I ask the proprietor ‘are you Eddie? You know Gali right? I’m house sitting for her whilst she’s in France’. Well, the effusiveness with which this announcement is met, I can only hope that at some point in my life people will dissolve into the same type of enraptured puddle at the mere mention of my name! He adores her and therefore spoils me; I suddenly have at least 9 spoons of oils and balsamics in my mouth! Mouth watering flavours of oil which I never knew existed - blood orange, walnut and pear, espresso. It is these interactions that make you feel less alone - in fact, they make all the difference. He tells me ‘Gali is graceful, interesting, deeply kind and very smart - I can see why you get on so well’ - a stellar compliment if ever there was one. I’ll take it, Eddie!
I get into a rhythm of a facetime with a bestie on a weekend morning, followed by one day exploring out in nature and the other day in the city - it's such a wonderful combo. One Saturday I go hiking amongst the redwoods and find my way to ‘Alice’s’ for lunch - a roadside diner with a reputation. There must be a hundred motorcycles parked or revving outside, the place is packed. I queue up and order a burger to eat out on the sunny patio under the trees, soaking up the vibes of this local’s favourite - it feels different to home and I revel in that.
I meet a friend of Gali’s for dinner and she tells me within 5 minutes ‘you can tell you’re not from around here - you’re so open. Here it tends to be surface level’. As its a running theme I ask why she thinks that is - she believes it's because ‘here everyone is in the rat race - it's a sky-high expensive place to live, so people are working under immense pressure, with colossal expenses as well as keeping up with the Joneses. People don’t know who they are - they got on the treadmill in their twenties and stayed on it’. A shudder runs through me…it sounds like Silicon Valley needs me!
One Friday afternoon I treat my sore back to a session at a ‘stretch lab’ where one lies out on a padded mattress topped table for 50 mins and has their limbs stretched in every which way - lovely. The ‘stretcher’ was called Jose - he is 22 and by far the friendliest person I have encountered so far on this trip. Aside from handling my limbs we quickly establish that he is enthusiastic about meeting me because he loves Man Utd and cannot wait to visit England - ‘you guys just seem to do everything so on purpose, with discernment’. Why thank you, I think, how unwarranted. Jose is 22 and was born in Mexico, with his parents moving over to California when he was just 4 months old. His younger brother was born in America, and so therefore, his sibling and parents have a passport that allows them to leave and return to the States as they please. Lovely, friendly, hard working Jose on the other hand is not allowed to leave the USA. Or at least if he does, he will be relinquishing his right to work in the country in which he has lived for 21 years and 8 months - because he wasn’t born here. He tells me this with such grace. I am astounded. Why is he not allowed to leave the country to visit another place? He is moved by my anger and I am so grateful he is educating me on the reality of the systems here. I feel wildly ignorant but determined to learn. I ask him how he can tell me this story without anger in his voice - he says you have to laugh or you’d cry. As I leave he tells me ‘you can’t imagine the influence you’ve had on me today’ - I feel exactly the same but sadly don’t say those exact words because I will cry in the middle of this physio studio if I do.
As I write this paragraph it's the end of my first month here and of course it's going far too fast, even though I am trying to be present and slow it down. I started this week with a strong feeling that for me personally there would be a turning of the tides, and I think there has been, and not the one I expected. I came here seeking space and inspiration to explore my future work direction and projects; instead I am gaining potent insights about myself. I’ll save that for next time - when hopefully I'll also have many more tales for you; including new friends, exploring north of the golden gate bridge, maybe a date, possibly trying psychedelics……who knows?! Until then I promise to start every single remaining day with gratitude to even be here - and I thank Jose for making me so much more aware of that gift.
Thank you for sharing this experience with me.
If you would like to hear more about coaching and learning to trust your intuition, read more here.
