Over the years I’ve traveled extensively for work and, like most business travel, it has been a largely solo activity. It has taken me to virtually every spot in the continental US big enough to warrant a Walmart and most of the larger cities many many times as well as to places off continent from Bermuda to Helsinki, Finland and many points between. Initially all the travel was a heady, exciting adventure. In fact, it still excites me on some level, just not like it once did. The whole truth, though, is that it can also be a very lonely existence and not just because I’m alone. Visiting cool new places or experiencing fun new things without someone to share it with is somehow inherently sad for me. I know there are people it doesn’t bother but I am a social creature and crave sharing the experience as much as or more than the experience itself. No matter how wonderful the place or activity I always find myself wishing for the company of a friend.

One of my favorite places in the world is San Francisco and within the San Francisco Bay area my favorite place is the Marin Headlands north of the Golden Gate Bridge. More specifically, the portions overlooking the bridge and, more specifically yet, at night. For me, at least, it is a magical place at night and, if you go late enough you can find spots in which you can be completely alone. Year round it is a little cool and there is almost always a strong breeze tousling your hair. You are nearly as high as the towers on the bridge and looking out through the cable suspension at the entire vista of the San Francisco skyline beyond. The blackness of the Pacific Ocean is felt more than seen as a palpable void to your right. You can’t help but feel the vast emptiness that stretches thousands of miles beyond the horizon. Something about that emptiness combined with the close yet seemingly unreachable companionship of the city gives me a sense of unparalleled solitude and the sheer scale of the entire scene serves as a powerful reminder of just how insignificant I really am.

But the thing is, that solitude extends only as far as earthly company is concerned. For me, at least, that separation from the rest of the world reminds me of how little all of the ‘stuff’ really matters and helps me gain perspective on what really does matter. Put another way, if you can’t hear God’s voice there you need to work on your listening skills. I’ve not found another place anywhere on the planet where I feel as at completely alone and completely not at the same time.

I’ve lost count of the number of times I have sat up there alone just looking out over the bridge and the city beyond while the hours rolled past unnoticed. I’ve found myself still sitting there as the sun broke over the Eastern horizon a few times, but I try to be packed up and gone by then as a rule. Something about leaving while it is still dark lets you carry a little of that wonderment away with you in a way you couldn’t by the light of day.

As amazing as that place is and as much as I want (or perhaps need) to be alone there, I still long to share the experience. In the time Christy and I have been together I’ve been there dozens of times without her but not once without wishing she were there beside me. Not once have I left there without a measure of sadness that I couldn’t share the experience with someone I love. The same is true rather I’ve been wandering the streets of Paris or walking a cornfield in Iowa. No matter how fun or amazing the experience, a part of me is left wanting for someone to share it with and saddened that I can’t carry that experience back to those I love.

As an avid photographer I carry my trusty Nikon with me as surrogate companionship. While being able to spend all the time I like trying to get a shot or sitting in one place for an hour waiting for the light to get just right is very nice, it really is a poor substitute for having someone to talk to. And, while I may have excellent shots of the trip years later, they are a poor substitute for being able to sit with someone and say ‘remember when’.

So I find myself wondering what do do now. Christy really isn’t into the whole skiing thing so this would be the perfect time to try it out, but there is just something depressing me about the thought of going it alone. The date for this trip hasn’t been settled so I have some time to decide, but I don’t know if I’ll be better able to decide later than I am now. Oh, well. I’ll let you know how it turns out.

/g