Yesterday was Friday, and I had every excuse to take it easy: just chill in my hotel room and walk along the Bay Trail, watching the airplanes land at SFO. I'd had a hectic Dreamforce. This was my second Dreamforce, but my first as a speaker. But I already feel like I have been here every year.
Salesforce is a very in-your-face kind of company; I must admit. Sometimes it's a little overwhelming for me: all the noise, all the marketing, all the showmanship. Unlike at other big tech companies, you can't just be good at technology and leave it at that. You also must be a good showman, with good marketing and presentation skills. To be honest, sometimes the marketing is too much for me. It's too loud for me, but I see that it's needed, and I see that it works.
One of the things I wanted to do this time was to embrace this almost bizarre identity of showmanship that my role at Dreamforce demands, so I pitched for, and got approved, three theatre sessions. It was a great experience, and an uplifting one, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was a show I was putting on. One thing that really got to me was that after all the sessions on the last day of Dreamforce, we had to go to not one but two social events. I felt super awkward and uncomfortable, but I promised myself I would not bolt and would simply be there and show up. Maybe I took it as a challenge, as part of embracing this alien persona. I wanted to be there at the social gatherings, fully accepting my awkwardness and my imposter syndrome.
Over the course of the evening, I met and spoke to many colleagues which I'm sure will help me as I onboard to my new team. But by the time I reached the hotel, it was super late, about 10:30PM, and I was exhausted. I took off my business clothes and felt like showering, just to make sure my makeup was removed and my made-up personality washed away.
And hence the next day being Friday, and I had every reason to take it easy. Thank God it's Friday, right? But…I reminded myself that I was leaving San Francisco the next day. Also, outside the sun was shining on the bay and it was glorious. So, I dressed up and headed for the Salesforce towers in Downtown SF. Because I wanted to savor my last 24 hours here.
I found a quiet corner on the 14th floor and simply let myself drift into work. My eyes and legs felt tired, so I went up to the Ohana Floor on the 61st floor for a triple-shot espresso mocha. I looked at the city below from the 61st floor. It's hard not to feel elated and elevated up there. I loved the way the clouds were blocking the view of the Golden Gate Bridge. I liked it even better that the bridge wasn't fully visible. I wasn't even trying to see it, but the massive towers of the Golden Gate were just throwing off a hint through the haze. That was nice. It was an evocative feeling, and so was the sight of so many windsurfers in the bay. Everything made me feel excited about being alive, being ambitious, and having the agency and consciousness to build something.
I live for these moments of awareness – awareness of finiteness; awareness of the fact that everything is fleeting, when I realize that we don't get to live anything forever. Contrived as it sounds (I might well come back for SF later this year), I find this perspective of seeing everything as fleeting uplifting, energizing, and awareness-inducing. I embrace these moments with its deliberately induced feelings. I tell myself once again that this might be the last time I see San Francisco, the magical city where the future gets built and willed into existence.
After a day of work, I found myself taking the bus to the Golden Gate Bridge again. This was the third time I'd walked the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. For me, the bridge represents San Francisco in some way: the massive engineering ambition of it, and the fact that it's in such a wild place.
It was very chilly, as it had gotten late by the time I got there. It was super awesome to see the clouds and the wind rushing in from the Pacific toward the bay. I must have been there for quite a while. I stopped walking and just looked down at the water flowing into the bay, or at least it felt like it was flowing into the bay.
After some time, my eyes caught a cruise ship floating under the bridge, and I locked onto the tiny, ant-like figures on the deck. I'm sure most of them were tourists. Suddenly, I realized how far away those people were, and I wanted to share my presence with them. I wanted to share my celebration, my sense of joy, my sense of being a part of witnessing the Golden Gate Bridge along with those people down there.
Generally, I don't reach out to strangers when I'm visiting a new country, but the fact that they were so far below and I was standing way above them on the bridge made a part of me venture a thought. I thought I would just wildly swing my arms and wave at the ant-like people on the boat. I don't know what came over me. A split second later, my arms were swinging wildly. Very quickly, I noticed that the people on the boat had seen me, and they started waving back too.
It was funny, it was sad, but it was a moment of human connection we could make only because we were so far apart that we couldn't talk to each other. There was this feeling of connection, or of wanting connection, that you're willing to accept only from a stranger who is far away, who is unreachable, who is untouchable, who cannot hurt you...
I guess it's like how I feel about those moments of finiteness about leaving San Francisco, and the specialness of San Francisco: it's special because it's a place I visit, not the place I live.
Salesforce is a very in-your-face kind of company; I must admit. Sometimes it's a little overwhelming for me: all the noise, all the marketing, all the showmanship. Unlike at other big tech companies, you can't just be good at technology and leave it at that. You also must be a good showman, with good marketing and presentation skills. To be honest, sometimes the marketing is too much for me. It's too loud for me, but I see that it's needed, and I see that it works.
One of the things I wanted to do this time was to embrace this almost bizarre identity of showmanship that my role at Dreamforce demands, so I pitched for, and got approved, three theatre sessions. It was a great experience, and an uplifting one, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was a show I was putting on. One thing that really got to me was that after all the sessions on the last day of Dreamforce, we had to go to not one but two social events. I felt super awkward and uncomfortable, but I promised myself I would not bolt and would simply be there and show up. Maybe I took it as a challenge, as part of embracing this alien persona. I wanted to be there at the social gatherings, fully accepting my awkwardness and my imposter syndrome.
Over the course of the evening, I met and spoke to many colleagues which I'm sure will help me as I onboard to my new team. But by the time I reached the hotel, it was super late, about 10:30PM, and I was exhausted. I took off my business clothes and felt like showering, just to make sure my makeup was removed and my made-up personality washed away.
And hence the next day being Friday, and I had every reason to take it easy. Thank God it's Friday, right? But…I reminded myself that I was leaving San Francisco the next day. Also, outside the sun was shining on the bay and it was glorious. So, I dressed up and headed for the Salesforce towers in Downtown SF. Because I wanted to savor my last 24 hours here.
I found a quiet corner on the 14th floor and simply let myself drift into work. My eyes and legs felt tired, so I went up to the Ohana Floor on the 61st floor for a triple-shot espresso mocha. I looked at the city below from the 61st floor. It's hard not to feel elated and elevated up there. I loved the way the clouds were blocking the view of the Golden Gate Bridge. I liked it even better that the bridge wasn't fully visible. I wasn't even trying to see it, but the massive towers of the Golden Gate were just throwing off a hint through the haze. That was nice. It was an evocative feeling, and so was the sight of so many windsurfers in the bay. Everything made me feel excited about being alive, being ambitious, and having the agency and consciousness to build something.
I live for these moments of awareness – awareness of finiteness; awareness of the fact that everything is fleeting, when I realize that we don't get to live anything forever. Contrived as it sounds (I might well come back for SF later this year), I find this perspective of seeing everything as fleeting uplifting, energizing, and awareness-inducing. I embrace these moments with its deliberately induced feelings. I tell myself once again that this might be the last time I see San Francisco, the magical city where the future gets built and willed into existence.
After a day of work, I found myself taking the bus to the Golden Gate Bridge again. This was the third time I'd walked the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. For me, the bridge represents San Francisco in some way: the massive engineering ambition of it, and the fact that it's in such a wild place.
It was very chilly, as it had gotten late by the time I got there. It was super awesome to see the clouds and the wind rushing in from the Pacific toward the bay. I must have been there for quite a while. I stopped walking and just looked down at the water flowing into the bay, or at least it felt like it was flowing into the bay.
After some time, my eyes caught a cruise ship floating under the bridge, and I locked onto the tiny, ant-like figures on the deck. I'm sure most of them were tourists. Suddenly, I realized how far away those people were, and I wanted to share my presence with them. I wanted to share my celebration, my sense of joy, my sense of being a part of witnessing the Golden Gate Bridge along with those people down there.
Generally, I don't reach out to strangers when I'm visiting a new country, but the fact that they were so far below and I was standing way above them on the bridge made a part of me venture a thought. I thought I would just wildly swing my arms and wave at the ant-like people on the boat. I don't know what came over me. A split second later, my arms were swinging wildly. Very quickly, I noticed that the people on the boat had seen me, and they started waving back too.
It was funny, it was sad, but it was a moment of human connection we could make only because we were so far apart that we couldn't talk to each other. There was this feeling of connection, or of wanting connection, that you're willing to accept only from a stranger who is far away, who is unreachable, who is untouchable, who cannot hurt you...
I guess it's like how I feel about those moments of finiteness about leaving San Francisco, and the specialness of San Francisco: it's special because it's a place I visit, not the place I live.
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Did I pull it off?
~1000 people attended those 3 sessions!
Magical tropical paradise right in SF Downtown (Salesforce Park)
Those blue skies and almost-Mediterranean vibe
Great city
Crappy hotel
Waving from up high..
Taking solace in my journal with my occasional anxieties..
Oh Shit.. :-)
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