I was speaking with my father today and he let me know that my dog – Karma – had died.

I am sad. Just an hour before I was playing with a dog that reminded me of her. I brought Karma home with her sister Veda. I named them. They were beautiful together, and they brought companionship to my neighbors who fell in love with them.

I received this message right after talking with my father about the circumstances surrounding his decision to live in Chattanooga, to leave his umpiring career behind. The past few years I have resolved to stay in San Francisco despite great soul pressures to return home. I have thought of my return home in a negative light always. My mind and heart has created such a dream for my life in San Francisco the fear of losing it has driven me to stay. Over the last couple of years I fell into deep depression and consuming addiction. I lost my will to finish my Ph.D. I have told myself that I would not repeat the mistakes of my father. I always thought that he gave up his dreams to be a professional umpire. I used this information to booster a dream that I would not yield to his Karma of failure, that I would achieve my dreams. Today on the phone I learned that he was to old to go to the majors, there were others ahead of him. Plus, he wasn’t that attracted to the traveling lifestyle. He always wanted to live in Chattanooga.

Listening to my father today tell me of Karma’s death was hugely significant given the circumstances of my life, how I’ve always thought that as the son I should surpass the achievements of my mother and father, and that I would succeed where they failed. There was a deep part of me today that felt I had crossed a threshold of Karma. I go back and forth. My father said he never really found another home like I did – here in San Francisco. Am I at home here?

I know that God is with me, but I feel like I’m going crazy running around in the Bay Area, a “victim of homelessness”, always playing the disempowered one, without a “job”…  I have all things in Chattanooga. I have all things except the dream I carry forward everyday I remain in San Francisco.

Perhaps Karma’s death meant nothing more than a broken heart. I know Karma missed me. Every time I leave Chattanooga people are saddened and I am without a home again. Who can I be without God? I have no light appart from that adventure. I am so, so exhausted. I have rested my dreams on the improbable.


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