Lessons in Learning How to Rest, Part Eleven.

Lesson Eleven: Going All In

This City Girl's inner monologue often sounds like Zach Braff's character from Scrubs and usually leads into a far-fetched daydream that ends with a choir singing out the days thoughts. (Oh, how I wish I was kidding.) However, earlier this week there was a plain and simple conversation in this Girl's head that looked a lot like this:

Lesson Nine*...know your season. Hmph. I'm clearly still in the same process I was when I posted that lesson back in January. JANUARY!!!...I guess I can see it's definitely been a process. I feel like a totally different person from the girl who wrote that post months ago and I know I'm definitely NOT still at the starting line, but seriously....when is this time going to be over?? This feels like waterboarding. (insert whiny noises and groaning) There's gotta be a way to make this go faster...Can I truly say that I've been in this, like, really in this? Hmm....why do I get the feeling there's more I could be doing here? (insert additional groans)

So, Lesson Eleven readers, I say this with as much bravery as I can muster: This City Girl has decided to push all her chips to the middle. Into the innermost depths of a difficult time. Into the very hardest of all situations, bearing down and leaning in. All in hopes that it will make this time, this season of learning, somehow go faster. This City Girl will let the lungs of her heart take in as much of the ethereal water as they can hold in hopes that she will come out on the other side of this season a better Girl. A stronger Girl. A Girl with answers. A Girl with greater hope.

Today I am going all in.

* The answer is yes. My thought process does include url links. (wink)

Lessons in Learning How to Rest, Part Nine.

Lesson Nine: Know your seasons.

I moved to The Beach a couple weeks ago. And I know I always say that I live at The Beach. But this time I moved, quite literally, to the ocean's doorstep. As in, I walk outside, cross the street, and I'm there. Toes in the sand. Salt air in my face. Sunshine and fog all around.

A few months before this fabulous decision to move, I had a sad break-up. A break-up that I saw coming down the pike that wasn't so sad because of the person about to leave, but because I knew the next season of self-growth that I had been skillfully avoiding was knocking at my door. And I didn't like the haunting feeling that I was about to hurt in yet another way. Felt like Scrooge anticipating the arrival of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come. But I knew that it was time to leave my season of heartbreak and bravely submit myself to a season of healing.

It took the entire four months, one-third of 2011, for my little heart to heal. A time for all those shattered pieces to be gently gathered up, connected together, and for my heart to feel like it could truly beat on its own. And while four months doesn't sound like a long time, it was tough for this City Girl to be all alone. In fact, it was the first time I was decidedly alone in about 2 years. I had turned down dates, set-ups, any prospective males of any kind in hopes that my time alone would reveal some great truth about life or love. Instead, those four months were used to get me back on my feet and able to stand up tall against the corrupt winds of charm, possessed by the everyday douche bag, that seem to whisk toward me on a weekly basis. Those four months were an emotional bootcamp, of sorts, that prepared me to raise my bar when it comes to all things love related.

And now I live at The Beach. Which to anyone else may not mean a whole lot. But to this City Girl it means a new season. Being a solid 15 minutes outside of The City, this part of The Beach is sleepy, quiet and completely unassuming. This place is peaceful. And I can now say, without doubt in my mind, this new season will be one of restoration.

Stay tuned...

Time Wounds All Heels.

Last Sunday I ran into a man who in the past has made my life a misery. Ever since my move back to The Beach I have been avoiding running into this guy as if my life depended on it. Now, I'm known to avoid people on occasion for a number of reasons: too tired to chat, ex-boyfriends (these reasons go without saying), crabby or demanding clients, etc. But in the past few months the very thought of running into this particular person has made my stomach turn, my face contort into a frown and plagued my heart with heaviness. Some people have the ability to make others feel about 2 inches tall in a matter of a few sentences and this guy has had that exact gift. At least that gift shined through every time I was around.

However, all that has changed. I decided to visit a church that I used to frequent and my friends still attend. And when it was time to do the "meet and greet" part of church I was shocked to find that I was sitting only 2 seats away from someone I have considered my arch enemy for the past few years. I've tried extra hard not to harbor mean feelings toward this guy, but it has been a challenge to say the least. And when I was finally let go from my job last year I was ecstatic at the thought of never again having to deal with said guy. That is until last Sunday...

Needless to say, my jaw dropped open almost to the floor. My first thoughts: What the hell is THIS guy doing in a church? And how did he not spontaneously combust into flames when he walked through the door?! I was greeted with such an enormous bear hug and kiss on the cheek I almost passed out from shock. I was overwhelmed and truly swept off my feet by the surprising gesture. In the time that I had been away this man had chosen to change his stars and is now living a life transformed. He had changed. He was happy. And I was in shock. For days.

And in light of past posts about relationships, let me just say that this turn of events, this uplifting chance run-in, has changed my life. It made me realize that it was finally time to let go of all those untruths that have been plaguing me, those little lies that I had let dictate my self worth. That chance encounter was a definite turning point for my self esteem and confidence. It saved me.

In a church of all places, of course! Ha!

Making a List and Chucking It Twice.

I make lists all day long. On my phone, on sticky notes, on my computer, in my iCal app, in my head...it's exhausting. And at the end of the day, I like to double check all my lists to make sure nothing got overlooked or added twice. Essentially, I pride myself on my list making abilities and my knack for keeping all things accounted for.

The other day I was chatting up my mom about the art of moving on and my attempt at leaving certain feelings behind. In the past when I had let love go, each day would get easier and easier. I would think about that person a little bit less as the weeks flew by. This time, however, I seem to have been compiling a list, unbeknownst to myself, of all the things I loved about this last possibility and each day seemed to be plaguing me with memories. Instead of each day of distance bringing freedom to my heart, I had found something new that made my heart sad and wishing I could turn back time. I was in the throws of serious girl talk, with tears of frustration streaming down my face, when my mom pointed out that since having had this time apart I now knew why I loved, why my heart had been so tied to someone.

I'm sure life for this City Girl will get sunnier again in the future. I will wake up one morning and live out an entire day without thinking about him. It has to be possible that at some point I'll be able to go a whole week without a giant knot building in my throat and tears waiting to spill out of my eyes. Maybe someday my heart will throw out that list...