No longer my dream come true.

This is the building where I thought all my dreams had come true. I was working for a small ladies' accessory company and I finally got the chance to become a fashion designer. I loved everything about it. I used to come back to the office at night after the gym to work on my collection. I would play Van Morrison on a boom box and look out of the huge industrial windows at downtown San Francisco and the sparkling Bay Bridge and think, “I’ve made it! I get to do what I love for a living.”

Of course, being a fashion designer, like any other profession, can be amazing - and it can also be challenging and heartbreaking. I went on to spend another 25 years as a designer before I left to build out another dream - a dream of helping people and making a difference in the world.

I’m in San Francisco for a few weeks testing the waters to see if I’d like to move back here and the loft I’m staying in is 2 blocks away from that building. When I finally found grass for my dog, (who spent the first few days learning to relieve herself in the tiny squares of dirt around the trees in the sidewalks) I looked up and saw my old office windows. I immediately felt a connection to my younger self. The young woman who had so much hope and optimism for the future and who was, in so many ways, completely clueless about life. At the time I was unsure of myself, insecure in my talents and abilities, and worried about everything.

I’ve come a long way since I worked in that building. My dreams are different. My anxiety level is completely different. My expectations of the future are different. And yet, so much of me is the same. I still love stinky french cheeses and ice-cold champagne and the city of San Francisco. And I still love that the work I do fills my soul with joy.

As I gaze up at those windows today I send a little prayer out for that younger version of me. “Slow down dear one,” I say, “You have plenty of time. Your life will be better than you can even imagine right now. You’ve got this.”