I am thrilled to be a part of the I live here: SF project. Writing my I live here: SF story gave me a great opportunity to reflect on my San Francisco journey and deep connection to this vibrant city. Meeting the photographer for a sunrise photo shoot on the top of Mt. Davidson turned into an adventure all it's own - the light that morning was beyond glorious and mirrors my feelings for this city and story. You can read it below or see it here.------Running the flat paths of Crissy Field, I felt my heart beat for the first time. This realization was aided by a heart rate monitor secured around my chest, sending a signal to the watch on my wrist, the digital numbers displaying heart beats per minute. The visual proof of a beating heart became a new guide for my attention. I'd heard with wonder my babies' heart beats detected through my growing belly during pregnancy, but I don't recall ever noticing or experiencing awe at my own.After reaching the first milestones towards race readiness on Crissy Field's even terrain, I tied my running shoes, secured the heart rate monitor, and headed for the rise and fall of the Presidio trails. Next, a route across the Golden Gate Bridge, the sand ladder stairs at Baker Beach, then Land's End - all the while watching the fluctuation of my heart rate on the watch as I struggled up hills, practiced deepening and extending my breath, increasing my tempo, or lengthening my stride. The digits on the watch were a cue to keep steady, slow down, or speed up. This experiment in training my body to run a race simultaneously taught my mind to notice and pay attention to my heart.This increasing physical and mental acuity of my heart's capacity began as a fitness experiment and turned into an esoteric pursuit. Minding my heart, paying attention to the beats, exploring ways to increase or decrease the numbers on my watch became a metaphor for life.My heart continues to beat. Sometimes at a restful pace. Sometimes above the recommended level of effort. Most of the time, somewhere between these extremes. I learned to recognize this reality not just during runs with the helpful heart rate monitor, but in all aspects of life. My heart beating means I am alive.Mt. Davidson is the tallest of San Francisco's forty-four peaks, providing (on a fog-free day) stunning 365-degree views. Ascending to the top without slowing to walk, a triumphant goal one summer. In my mind, there is a map of San Francisco overlaid with favorite runs, peaks reached, personal best times, and next challenges. I don't consider myself an athlete - it's more like this running is a catalyst to actually feeling and subsequently minding my heart.Another map in my mind is an ever-growing landscape of San Francisco comprised of locations embedded with people and experiences coupledwith awe. This rendering of the city tracks the serendipitous journey of following my heart. Traversing this heartfelt map has, just like the city itself, hills - the ups and downs. The peak of heart travel: discovering the essence of a heartstand - unexpectedly feeling my heart turned upside down, finding myself a little shaky but more vibrant and alive than I've ever felt before.The room at the back of the 826 Valencia's pirate store is full of large tables and lit by a random collection of chandeliers. If it were possible to gauge my feeling standing in this room, it would be off the charts -a gold star of awe-filled locations. Similarly heart expanding is any chance to throw a prompt into Cary Tennis's hat and discover what letters assemble themselves on my page. Cary's quiet acceptance coaxes out even the timid words.Minding my heart, chance encounters turn into pivotal events: The Mission's alleys and street art, dancing barefoot on wood floors, experiencing The Poetry Store, posting love notes in public spaces.This is where it happened. I found my heart in San Francisco. Shannon excuses her ribbon, paper and font obsessions teaching book making workshops at 826 Valencia and creating love notes at www.LoveYou2.org.