san francisco dreaming

Aug 24

Some trips feel more like a dream than a trip. Not just a "dream come true" but more like an actual lucid dream. When everything is bathed in sunlight and quick heartbeats. When you can't seem to pull yourself out of the sequence long enough to post a photo to Instagram, because you're too busy being swept up by the dream and letting it consume you for a bit.

The lucid dream began from the moment I landed in San Francisco. It moved me along to see Leah waiting by the baggage claim, I felt my feet sprinting under me, and then my arms wrapped around her as we embraced for the first time in months. Some hugs you just don't forget.

For some reason I can be very picky with my happiness. I analyze a situation and think "this would have been perfect if I was with this person, or in this place." For my own health, I'm working on it, and getting a lot better at it. It's probably why I come across as so relentlessly optimistic. It's just my way of self-care.

But for the entire dream of a week I didn't need to analyze a single thing. I'll never forget walking through Tuolumne Meadows in Yosemite and suddenly bursting into tears because I realized that this was exactly the 10 out of 10 moment I had been holding out for. I didn't even want to think of a single thing that could make that moment better. I just wept from pure awe.