Lessons in Learning How to Rest, Part Eight.

Lesson Eight: Let your freak flag fly.

I was sitting on the beach today just letting a slapdash stream of consciousness flow through my mind, when out of nowhere my thoughts landed on a memory I hadn't visited in years. It was almost as if I had invented a past memory that wasn't mine. It was so...out of character for the girl that writes this blog today.

Or was it that this girl just forgot a part of herself that still existed?

This City Girl is sorry to have to admit that in the middle of finding herself all over again and laying down some new ground rules for her life, she wasn't having as much fun as she used to. Even with the quick wit and dry humor, having unadulterated fun was not a part of daily life. Sarcasm and the occasional humorously odd observation does not (necessarily) a fun girl make.

Breaking into a 5 star hotel, stripping down and skinny dipping in a rooftop pool for 15 minutes until you get kicked out by the management, however...

A few months ago I had a short, but funny conversation with a boy I was dating. We were in the middle of a romantic entangling when he pulled away from my lips long enough to say, with an inquisitive tone, "You're kind of wild." I hadn't been labeled wild since high school. In fact, I couldn't really remember the last time I was truly "wild" by the world's definition. I had just polished off a crazy two years full of dramatic situations, haphazardly dating parts of Oregon and California, and heartbreaking lessons, but only once or twice had I acted like a wild child. If that!

Remembering the hotel incident today awakened a small part of me. And I'm happy to say that a new breeze is now blowing through my daily thoughts. I don't know how often my tempestuous side will make an appearance, but heaven help the uptight bystander that happens to be near when it does. Because I make no promises or apologies for where this City Girl's freak flag may fly!

Lessons in Learning How to Rest, Part Seven.

Lesson Seven: Don't get stuck in the moment. This too shall pass. 

Remember how I said earlier this year that I'm cutting all the chatter? Well, sometimes the chatter will all but scream at you. I have learned, however, that you don't have to listen to it or let it effect you. Seems like everyone I run into these days (acquaintance, friend, stranger, you name it!) has an opinion on my love life. My everyday life seems to be in order, according to everyone with a mouth, but my love life is clearly in arrears.

Strangers have told me not to give up on love. The other day my chiropractor announced out of nowhere that he's getting me ready for matrimony by correcting my posture. (Nobody loves a hunchback!) Friends from all corners of the world have told me that I need to start dating men, not boys. (As if I'd known those other guys would turn out to be emotionally stunted jerkfaces.) My mother thinks the last guy could still pull it together and morph into my happily ever after. And others think my Prince Charming is just 'round the bend. (If this is true, I'm worried he's a little stupid and can't figure how to make right turns. He should be here by now!)

The only chatter I've heard lately that makes sense to me, the only words that have resonated in my very being, have been these: This too shall pass. 

I was plagued for days this week with a feeling that made me want to crawl under the covers of my bed and not come out until someone checked my closet for The Boogeyman. The feeling was awful. I felt like I was being chased by it. And I couldn't figure out what it was or why it was haunting me until I met up with a friend for one of our Skype dates. As we were talking, the truth, that unidentified feeling, came to the surface. I was sad. I was sad about getting repeatedly kicked in the teeth by love. And I had been hiding it under layers of optimism and big ideas for the business and other parts of my life in hopes that it would eventually dissipate. I was also tired. Tired of dating idiots, boys, whatever you wanna call them. I was tired of feeling bad about myself. I was tired of still caring about these guys who don't really care about me as much as they care about themselves. I was tired of apologizing for feeling the way I do and not having it all together as per my usual. And, lastly, I was tired of waiting for Mr. Right.

The thing about feelings is they don't go away until you confront them, head on, grab them by the horns and stare them straight in the eyes. And so she let me cry big crocodile tears with her via Skype. (Not too unlike a few nights before when I sobbed to my best friend for reasons I wasn't entirely sure of yet.) And while she said a lot of things that night, the advice that stuck with me was to not get stuck in the moment, because as awful as it was it would pass. And while I'm still living out the last bits of this moment, I know in my heart my friend is right. I can't get stuck here. It will pass...