Sometime during all that sickness, my five year anniversary here in San Francisco came and went.
At some point during my later teen years in St. Louis, I looked around and wondered how there could be so much stuff - and yet absolutely none of it was for me.
I still haven't completely forgiven this slighting.
Shortly after arriving in San Francisco, I looked around in amazement at how much stuff there was - and couldn't believe that a considerable amount of it was for me.
I still greatly appreciate how much of San Francisco is created out of shear enthusiasm.
Now days I look at all the stuff and I mostly manage a "Meh".
I don't entirely know what "for me" means anymore. I think in many ways it means anything and nothing. I'll always love San Francisco. Which has nothing at all to do with no longer needing it.
It's hard for me to imagine needing anywhere.
As I said before, moving has a lot to do with wanting to own a home. It's easy to see that as a commitment to a place. "I want to live here because this is the place for me." I don't so much consider it in that way. For me it's less about place and more about time. Renting is inherently temporary. A home helps eliminate that sort of future concern. It means less distraction from the present.
Assuming of course that I avoid the temptation of constant "home improvement".
Devil's Court Appointed Advocate: It also represents a considerable attachment.
How true.
It's easy to get caught up in the counting of potential forward and back steps... Looking for whatever rights and wrongs relative to a future that never existed. In the end, none of the modifiers matter.
Only the step it's self.