and would obliterate anything in its path. Sometimes that was good, and sometimes it wasn’t. For the first time in a long time – possibly forever – Sarah found herself thinking objectively about her life in San Francisco, both the good parts and the bad. She liked the excitement. She liked the pace of change. She liked the experience of being her own boss, and living in a community that celebrated the spirit that led a person to commit the somewhat insane act of starting up their own business. That was all good, and there had been plenty of good in the last few years.
There was bad, though, too, and Sarah knew that she hadn’t always been honest with herself on that point. It was bad that she had been so consumed with work that she barely had time for family, let alone friends or dating. It was bad that the startup scene put such an emphasis on success that it discarded failures and never thought of them again – some of those “failures” were good people who simply had bad luck or bad timing, and yet Sarah had been among the crowd of those who were ready to write them off if the market didn’t happen to break their way. It was bad, too, that the community focused on change as a good in itself. Change could be good, but it could also be bad, and the less time you spent thinking about what’s required for a change to be good, the less chance you had of actually achieving it.
Sarah had loved her life in San Francisco before it all came crashing down around her, and she was pretty sure that she could love that life again. She just wasn’t sure that she wanted to, or that it would be the best for her in the end.
What struck her as meaningful, though, was that her mind was beginning to turn towards the future. She was no longer rehashing the mistakes she made and mentally murdering the man who had stolen everything that she had worked so hard to build. The anger was still there, just as hot as ever if she chose to bask in it, but it was no longer what dominated her mind when she thought back to her life in San Francisco. Now she was starting to look at the city as the locus of new possibility, the place where she might take the first few steps of the next stage of her life. For the first time she was beginning to move forward.
With that thought she reached out, grabbed the laptop, and opened it on the ground in front of her crossed legs. Something had made her procrastinate about finishing the interview, but now she felt a new urgency to close the books on open projects so that she could start working on the next big thing. For the first time in weeks, Sarah was beginning to feel excited.
13
Sarah was opening the door in the gathering gloom when she felt the phone buzz in her pocket. She could easily have missed the call, since she had forgotten that she set the iPhone to mute – she didn’t want any electronic chimes disturbing the birdsong that surrounded her on that hillside. Even now she thought for a moment or two about letting the call go to voicemail – it was late, she was hungry, and she was pretty sure that there wasn’t enough food in the refrigerator to make a decent dinner. She needed to figure out what she was going to eat, not get pulled into a conversation, but eventually she sighed and pulled the phone from her jeans pocket.
Thumbing the phone open without looking at the caller ID, she offered a tired-sounding “Hello?”
“That didn’t sound too good. Is this a bad time?”
It took her a while to place the voice. “Brad?” she finally asked.
“Yep. I can call back later.”
“No, this is an OK time,” she said, closing the door with her foot and standing inside the dark cabin; with her phone in one hand and her bag in the other, she had no hands free to turn on the lights. “What’s up?”
“Well, I was thinking that I needed some air, and my Dad and I could definitely use some time apart, and I was wondering whether you’d like to meet me for a drink?”
“A
There was bad, though, too, and Sarah knew that she hadn’t always been honest with herself on that point. It was bad that she had been so consumed with work that she barely had time for family, let alone friends or dating. It was bad that the startup scene put such an emphasis on success that it discarded failures and never thought of them again – some of those “failures” were good people who simply had bad luck or bad timing, and yet Sarah had been among the crowd of those who were ready to write them off if the market didn’t happen to break their way. It was bad, too, that the community focused on change as a good in itself. Change could be good, but it could also be bad, and the less time you spent thinking about what’s required for a change to be good, the less chance you had of actually achieving it.
Sarah had loved her life in San Francisco before it all came crashing down around her, and she was pretty sure that she could love that life again. She just wasn’t sure that she wanted to, or that it would be the best for her in the end.
What struck her as meaningful, though, was that her mind was beginning to turn towards the future. She was no longer rehashing the mistakes she made and mentally murdering the man who had stolen everything that she had worked so hard to build. The anger was still there, just as hot as ever if she chose to bask in it, but it was no longer what dominated her mind when she thought back to her life in San Francisco. Now she was starting to look at the city as the locus of new possibility, the place where she might take the first few steps of the next stage of her life. For the first time she was beginning to move forward.
With that thought she reached out, grabbed the laptop, and opened it on the ground in front of her crossed legs. Something had made her procrastinate about finishing the interview, but now she felt a new urgency to close the books on open projects so that she could start working on the next big thing. For the first time in weeks, Sarah was beginning to feel excited.
13
Sarah was opening the door in the gathering gloom when she felt the phone buzz in her pocket. She could easily have missed the call, since she had forgotten that she set the iPhone to mute – she didn’t want any electronic chimes disturbing the birdsong that surrounded her on that hillside. Even now she thought for a moment or two about letting the call go to voicemail – it was late, she was hungry, and she was pretty sure that there wasn’t enough food in the refrigerator to make a decent dinner. She needed to figure out what she was going to eat, not get pulled into a conversation, but eventually she sighed and pulled the phone from her jeans pocket.
Thumbing the phone open without looking at the caller ID, she offered a tired-sounding “Hello?”
“That didn’t sound too good. Is this a bad time?”
It took her a while to place the voice. “Brad?” she finally asked.
“Yep. I can call back later.”
“No, this is an OK time,” she said, closing the door with her foot and standing inside the dark cabin; with her phone in one hand and her bag in the other, she had no hands free to turn on the lights. “What’s up?”
“Well, I was thinking that I needed some air, and my Dad and I could definitely use some time apart, and I was wondering whether you’d like to meet me for a drink?”
“A
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