As the sky turned darker, I cruised home from Fort Funston towards Porter’s house for my final night in San Francisco. On Tuesday I would be returning back to Pennsylvania for Thanksgiving, as well as to preserve some capital. As opposing headlights struck my eyes and cars whizzed passed me, certain discouraging thoughts arose, primarily the lack of confidence close ones have in me at this point in my life.
It’s natural for people who are close to worry and care about one another, but it also reveals a lack of faith in their friend’s direction. At this point, it’s apparent not a lot of people have faith in me. Although some may try to portray the contrary in conversation, certain cues have revealed which prove my point. Frankly, it’s somewhat upsetting. However,this situation alone validates the significance in possessing self-confidence. At times, especially during the darkest hours, you’re the only one who will believe in your direction.
I twisted the volume knob and the Grateful Dead’s jam rose throughout the car. I held my index finger down and my window dropped all the way. I laid my left forearm along the side of the car, receiving the brush of the breeze against it. The temperature was still relatively cool at this time of the day.
There’s a quote by Rumi that goes, “Don’t be satisfied with stories, how things have gone with others. Unfold your own myth.” As I drove home, there’s an unknown mystery out of reach of my headlights’ beams. Although this uncertainty might be concerning for some, it’s invigorating for me. I know where I’m heading, but I don’t know what lies ahead.