Straight Line

Not all paths are straight

Thirty years ago, I lived in San Francisco, California. When friends would visit from out of town, I would take them to Muir Woods, stop for lunch at the Pelican Inn, and then show them Stinson Beach - three gorgeous spots along the Northern California coast line. 

I was riddled with uncertainty during that time period. Would I end up with the guy I was dating? How long would I stay in California? Would I go to law school? What was I making of my life? Was I doing enough? What was my greater purpose? My twenties were filled with angst.

A few weeks ago, my husband (yes, we ended up together) and I played darts at the Pelican Inn. We now live 15 minutes away. 

The line in my life between the Pelican Inn thirty years ago and today is not straight. Not at all. So many things - joyful, hard, unexpected, lucky, horrible, fun moments - happened in between. And most of it occurred far, far away from the Pelican Inn.

I couldn’t have drawn that path if I’d tried. I wonder where it’s leading me now.