How did I get here?

I ask myself this question all of the time, and as I am typing this in a first class seat while sipping on a cocktail and reminiscing about shooting two days of surfing with great people in the Channel Islands, I ask again, how the heck did I get here?

However you want to look at it, the whole first class thing was either pure luck, karma (for patiently enduring some flying hassles on the way to CA) or just a really nice woman working at the check-in counter.  I’m thinking a combination of the latter two.

But seriously, how did I get here?  Where did it all start?

You can track backwards until the day I was born to answer that question (or even before that), but a big part of it stems from a trip I made to Ventura, California (the very same place my brother calls home and where I have spent the last week) to see about a van.

            I was terrified.  I had just quit my job, sold my car, moved out of my apartment, started a business and was ready to blow all of my savings (and then some) on a van.  El Guapo (the van) was going to be my house, office, vehicle and only source of familiarity.  Again, I was terrified.  So, voice cracking, hands shaking and stomach turning, I made the deal and drove away with leftover jitters, adrenaline exhaustion and a new world of possibilities.

            But before leaving town I did three things.  I drove to the beach and stood in the Pacific Ocean long enough to get wrinkly feet, I mailed a birthday card to a friend from a local post office and I went to a grocery store to stock up for the trip (and life) ahead.

            This week I ended up at those exact three locations again and it made me think about what those seemingly insignificant places actually mean to me and how I have changed since the last time I soaked in the energy from that beach, walked those grocery store isles or dropped some mail in that same metal box.

            I have changed a lot, my view has changed a lot and my life has changed a lot, but that same passion, drive and desire that put me there in the first place has not wavered.  In fact, I would say it is even stronger.

            And that is how I got here.  So we are clear on this, HERE is not this first class seat.  HERE is living the photographic life and meeting up with new and interesting people along the way.  HERE is a no holds barred, all in style of living, working and being. HERE is swimming and shooting in the surf on a secret break wearing a smile and listening to everyone else laugh, whoop and kid around with each passing wave.

            HERE is what I strive for.  HERE is where I was headed when I first drove the van away from Ventura.

(Wax on, wax off?)

(Thanking the powers that be for this wonderful day.)

(The Dingo keeping other folks on their boats.)

(The Uh Oh feeling.)