Closing time. That's what it has felt like recently. Not insofar as this blog goes, though I know it's mostly dormant these days. It's not a particularly deep song, but those lyrics have lodged into my head because they're apt right now- you don't have to go home but you can't stay here.
I've been trying to get my head right about leaving this part of the country, because the chances are astronomically high that I will no longer be a resident of this golden state for much longer. If this were the best of all possible worlds, then I'd live in the Bay Area, and live affordably there on the meager salary of a fellow, and be in a decent program training. But life gets complicated, the more you want, the more your heart is set on something.
Sometimes I think that love is a test. And that applies to love of work too, especially for me, because work and life are tied inextricably together for me. Don't ask me to be exuberant if work is going poorly, I can't do it, and I'm not sorry about that. Sometimes, I worry that some physicians don't take their job personally enough. But anyway, these choices end up being made. Really, you love this? Do you love it enough to leave the part of the country where you dreamed about living?
Once, the bro-seph and I were standing on the rooftop of a party in the Mission. It was clear and sunny and from that height, we could see across the city. I was floating. I gestured around and half-joked to my brother: "I think we've reached the promise land!" It did feel that way.
But it's weird. First of all, San Francisco doesn't make me feel that way anymore, I am sad to report. It's become not unlike New York in some ways. Beautiful, indisputably. And I will always hold it dear. But it's become a place exclusively for the have's of this world, and I find it hard to relate to places like that past a certain point. Moreover, though, San Francisco made some things plain for me.
I stood on that rooftop and I made that proclamation, but there was still a yearning in my heart. There was still more that I wanted, something I was searching for, and that something means I might have to move far, far away. And I wonder if all of this, everything that has happened to this point, has been a preparation for this next move.
None of it really matters. We like to think we have some control, we like to prepare, we like to think we've learned so much and are so world-wise. But in the end, change comes one way or the other and it doesn't really care whether you're ready for it or not. I'm just trying to remember that I've watched my life change numerous times, some by my choosing, some not so much, and it hasn't beaten me down yet.
But there are scenarios I would prefer, and I'm trying to convince myself to dream.
***
In other, more musical news, two Border Lines have earwormed me recently. The first is courtesy of a very funny episode of The Mindy Project. Yes, when I first heard it, I had a major nostalgia overload, but the Flaming Lips and company really prove that covers can reinterpret things in ways that are welcome.
The second Border Line, of course, is the new single by Goldspot. These lyrics really feel like the best ones the band have written to date. And even if some of their songs sound like cousins of each other, Goldspot has a distinct sound, one that tells you they're not afraid to incorporate Indian influence into their music but also that it's really woven into their fabric, not a device used for the purpose of kitsch.
I've been trying to get my head right about leaving this part of the country, because the chances are astronomically high that I will no longer be a resident of this golden state for much longer. If this were the best of all possible worlds, then I'd live in the Bay Area, and live affordably there on the meager salary of a fellow, and be in a decent program training. But life gets complicated, the more you want, the more your heart is set on something.
Sometimes I think that love is a test. And that applies to love of work too, especially for me, because work and life are tied inextricably together for me. Don't ask me to be exuberant if work is going poorly, I can't do it, and I'm not sorry about that. Sometimes, I worry that some physicians don't take their job personally enough. But anyway, these choices end up being made. Really, you love this? Do you love it enough to leave the part of the country where you dreamed about living?
Once, the bro-seph and I were standing on the rooftop of a party in the Mission. It was clear and sunny and from that height, we could see across the city. I was floating. I gestured around and half-joked to my brother: "I think we've reached the promise land!" It did feel that way.
But it's weird. First of all, San Francisco doesn't make me feel that way anymore, I am sad to report. It's become not unlike New York in some ways. Beautiful, indisputably. And I will always hold it dear. But it's become a place exclusively for the have's of this world, and I find it hard to relate to places like that past a certain point. Moreover, though, San Francisco made some things plain for me.
I stood on that rooftop and I made that proclamation, but there was still a yearning in my heart. There was still more that I wanted, something I was searching for, and that something means I might have to move far, far away. And I wonder if all of this, everything that has happened to this point, has been a preparation for this next move.
None of it really matters. We like to think we have some control, we like to prepare, we like to think we've learned so much and are so world-wise. But in the end, change comes one way or the other and it doesn't really care whether you're ready for it or not. I'm just trying to remember that I've watched my life change numerous times, some by my choosing, some not so much, and it hasn't beaten me down yet.
But there are scenarios I would prefer, and I'm trying to convince myself to dream.
In other, more musical news, two Border Lines have earwormed me recently. The first is courtesy of a very funny episode of The Mindy Project. Yes, when I first heard it, I had a major nostalgia overload, but the Flaming Lips and company really prove that covers can reinterpret things in ways that are welcome.
The second Border Line, of course, is the new single by Goldspot. These lyrics really feel like the best ones the band have written to date. And even if some of their songs sound like cousins of each other, Goldspot has a distinct sound, one that tells you they're not afraid to incorporate Indian influence into their music but also that it's really woven into their fabric, not a device used for the purpose of kitsch.
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