As I sit down to write this, I realize it was about this time of night six years ago—late in the evening of New Year’s Day, 2006—when I tiptoed out onto the internet and decided to start a food blog.
I was sick that New Year’s, I had been for weeks. We celebrated the holidays at home. My friends who had also been sick came over and we drank butternut squash soup with roasted garlic from large rounded mugs my friend Violeta gave me, and ate walnut bread spread with blue cheese and slices of pear as we sat in front of the fire and wondered what the new year might bring us.
The next day I spent in bed, as I was spending most of my days. As the day drew to a close I propped my laptop up on my knees, in my cream-colored San Francisco bedroom with the bay window and the view of the cypress trees in Golden Gate Park, and started typing. In a few years the Academy of Sciences would be rebuilt and the domes that Renzo Piano designed would glow in the night and I would be able to see it from my perch in bed, looking otherworldly and ghostly in the foggy dark. But all that lay in the future.
I could never have known then as I sat there, legs drawn up beneath my down quilt, that the thing I was doing would change my life. I was simply picking out keys to write about something I love and wanted to share—Japanese nabe stews that are served in the winter. Key by key, I wrote that story, and the next day I wrote another one.
Story by story this site grew, and it brought new people into my life, new work opportunities, new adventures. Story by story, it changed my life. I now live in another city, my work has changed, my world has broadened in ways I never could have imagined. I’ve made friends I never would have otherwise, I’ve fallen in love with photography, I’ve learned to make cheese. Best of all, I have you lovely people reading along, sharing your stories, sending me notes to tell me when something in particular has touched you. It’s all been so much more than I ever could have dreamed.
But imagine if I hadn’t taken that first step. What if I had decided to watch TV instead? What would my life have looked like today if I had just gone to sleep?
There’s a takeaway from this story (and it’s not that everyone should start a blog). When I started writing about nabe, I was writing about something I love. I was following my passion and curiosity. I had no idea where it might lead, I had no expectations or ambitions for it. Back then no one had gotten a book deal from their website, no one had advertisements or cared about search engine optimization. I wasn’t writing as a launching pad to anywhere. This site was not a resume builder. For the first three years I wrote it anonymously, not even listing my name.
I began because it excited me. I was curious and I wanted to write about something I loved. I was following my passion, with no thought to where it might lead. The destination was never the point, the act of doing was reward enough. Everything else has been a delightful surprise.
I spent New Year’s on the Oregon coast this year, a place of woodsy hills, long flat beaches, and a charming quirky hotel I will tell you about soon. I met a lovely woman there who emailed me afterwards and told me she and her husband had resolved this year to “follow-through on all things intriguing.”
Follow-through on all things intriguing. I’ve been thinking of that idea ever since. I love it.
That’s what I did the day I started this site: I walked in the direction of something that intrigued me, an idea that brought me delight. I didn’t yet understand why, but there was a flutter in my heart and I followed it—even though, as a professional writer, I had plenty of people telling me I shouldn’t write for free. Food blogging intrigued me and I followed through. Everything has come from that.
I’m really excited about 2012. I have some ideas that make my heart flutter—ideas for my own life, and also for the life of this site. You all inspire me so much, and I have fun plans for things we might do together. I’ll be telling you more about that in the weeks to come. It’s going to be great.
But here is my question for you, and the first day of the year feels like the perfect time to ask it:
What intriguing thing do you want to follow-though on this year?
Do you want to travel, or write a book, or take singing lessons, or pull out that painting set in your garage? (I do). Maybe you want to run a 10K, or learn how to ride a bike, or stand on your head in yoga class. Maybe you just want to organize your spice rack (if that is the case, I highly recommend it).
On this brand new slate of a year, what is the story you want to write for yourself? What is fluttering in your heart?
If you feel comfortable sharing in the comments, I’d love to hear. Your answer doesn’t have to be practical or even make sense—often these things don’t make sense until later. I always think you know what is right and true because it both excites you and scares you a little bit too. It’s the thing that makes you flutter on the inside.
Let’s all hold hands and take a big step forward together, closer to what is calling us.
Happy New Year, friends. I have a feeling it’s going to be a great one.
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