The Wandering Foodie

The soft crunch of the dirt path beneath my shoes echoed along the otherwise peaceful and quiet path. It had not been an easy hike through the Northern California woods following the coastline from the Golden Gate Bridge across sandy beaches, rugged undergrowth with downed trees blocking the path, and briefly walking though the upscale Seacliff neighborhood and finally onto the trail that led to Land’s End, located in SF’s far northwest corner. From here, you can look out through the groves of cypress and eucalyptus across the rugged cliffs onto the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean, the Golden Gate Bridge framing to your right, like something right out of a painting or postcard.

It was here that I sat down to enjoy the view and also to reflect. There’s something about the solitude and beauty of nature that lends itself to contemplation. And I was overdue for some.

Indeed, it was time for me to have a personal midyear review of my life. More specifically, I asked myself, what is it that I am trying to accomplish? What do I really want in life? What we want is what we strive for. What we want consumes us, motivates us. This year has had its challenges and throughout them and previous ones, I had to admit that I haven’t always gone for what I wanted. I’ve had goals in life, but often they seemed more fantasy than reality. I’ve had to face the fact that in life I had settled for too long. In my career, my health, my spiritual growth, love and relationships, friendships, etc., I had accepted less. I have allowed fears, doubts, second guessing, procrastination, etc., to hinder me.

As I sat looking out at the orange sun sinking into the horizon, a lone freight ship cruising out to sea, I wondered what would it take to really go for it in life? To not settle. And, I realized, much like the tiring, long hike it took to reach this pristine view, it starts with just one step. What’s one step I can take? In every area of my life, there was at least one step I could take to reach my goals. I had been making it all too complicated and jumping 30 steps ahead, trying to imagine and map it all out at once. One step, one proactive, intentional action. That’s what I needed. A consistent step forward.

As the evening cool air grew sharper, I stood, dusting off my jeans, and reluctantly left the place of solitude and reflection. And, with clear understanding and resolve, knowing exactly what I needed to do, I headed back up the trail towards home.

One step at a time.