Lessons In Learning, Part Fourteen.

Lesson Fourteen: There's no rush. We're just cruisin'.

I've shortened the title of these posts to be Lessons in Learning. Period. End of title. Because I've recently discovered that all the lessons posted on this blog have been myriad of exercises in learning. Learning how to truly settling into my own being, how to slow down or how to move forward in my own life.

And on that note, this is the post where I say that I don't know how to really master this lesson. I'm attempting the whole slowing down concept, but in reality I don't have a clue what I am doing. All I know about my current situation is that I have two speeds: the speed of light and being at a dead stop.

Let me set the scene...

While on my glorious Hawaiian vacation, I went surfing with my new friend. (I'm going to skip the part where I looked like a baby giraffe on a surfboard and underwent multiple baptisms by the rougher-than-I'm-used-to waves.) At the end of our little surf session we both paddled back to shore. Correction: He effortlessly made his way toward the beach like he had been born in the water. I frantically splashed my arms around in the shallow waves with a strained look on my face like I was reenacting the final scenes of Cast Away.

Somewhere in the middle of my Tom Hanks impression my friend turned around with a look of surprise on his face, smiled and said, "Hey, there's no rush. We're just cruisin'." At which point I let out a huge sigh and laid my face down on the board and just let myself float with the sway of the tide. I was exhausted. I also didn't know how to "cruise." I knew how to get back to the beach and I knew how to surf. I didn't know what cruising was, what it meant, or what it felt like. 

We ended up floating on our boards for the next 20 minutes while he told me about the history of Kauai, Hawaiian traditions and how Disney butchered the pronunciation of Hanalei Bay in the movie Pete's Dragon. Turns out cruising just meant enjoying where you're at without the ferocity of taking an extreme approach toward the destination.

Basically, it means slow down and smell the roses once or twice.

The destination isn't going anywhere. I'm not going to get amnesia and forget where I'm headed. And chances are I will have more fun stories, more enjoyable experiences and a fuller life if I allow myself to cruise my way to the finish line.

I don't always need to be busy, because busy doesn't mean I'm getting there any quicker. And not everything I do has to be done with a fierceness that says, "This chick is hard core." Being hard core doesn't add meaning to what gets done.

That being said, this is tough. I wasn't entirely sure where to start. So, I've started by not filling up every second of every day on my calendar. I've let myself sleep later than I've slept in months. And when I find myself raising the leather strap about to crack the whip over my own head I tell myself to chill out. There's no rush. I'm just cruising.

This horsey needs room to gallup!

Today I was determined to find fun things to do at The Lake. So far, I'm still a little stumped. I did find fun things to do for a few girls nights out.

Fondue anyone? 

And I did find a couple of cool tours that involve kayaks and wine tastings. I'm sure there's probably some clause about these two things being separate.

Some people just don't know how to have a good time!

But other than that, I've found nothing that's an every week/weekend sort of thing. So, now I'm revisiting an idea I had awhile ago: join the local co-ed softball team.

Little known fact about me: I love sports. In fact, there was a phase in my life where all I would watch was Sports Center and Sex and The City. I know. It's practically a split personality. And for anyone who really knows me and is reading this, you probably feel like I just threw you a real curve ball! (No pun intended.)

My days in SB weren't always spent shopping, going to parties and sleeping in. (Well, maybe the sleeping in part.) There were 3 to 4 solid years spent chasing waves with my surfboard, boogie board or anything that could float and let me ride on the crest of curled salt water. Then there were the years spent doing yoga. Although, I can't remember a time when I haven't kept that practice up. And then there were the last couple of years where I was the captain of an adult kickball team. That's right. I said kickball.

When I'm not on the road, I've spent almost every single day at the gym. It's not my first place to go to for fun, but it's been something to do. And now it's taken me 30 days to become completely restless to the point of going out on a field and hoping someone throws a piece of sports equipment at me. There's just something about running around outside and yelling and screaming in an umpire's face that just makes a girl feel alive!

Brace yourselves. My inner sports nut just might emerge once again.