Five Things I Would Tell My Younger Self

I recently read an article about the ten things some famous photographer would've told his younger self when starting his career and it got me thinking about the things I would tell my younger self....about life.

I know I had older wisdom circling around from time to time, but I wish I would have dived into the resources I had at the time and truly listened. And I don't know if being confronted with an older version of myself would have made any difference, but here's what I would tell my younger self given the chance:

1. Make friends with the older crowd and learn from their mistakes.
   This doesn't have to be a mentor type of thing, but a friend kind of thing. I think there was this all-too-formal set-up that had the stench of religion on it that made me veer from seeking out relationships with an older crowd. And now that I'm becoming one of those "older" people that has a thing or two to say about life, I find that it's not a religious thing–it's a life thing. It's a fantastic and amazing resource just waiting to be tapped into.
2. Let your freak flag fly.
   Don't try to fit someone else's mold or try to live up to someone else's standards. Make your own rules, live your own life, in the way you think it should be lived. Because trying to be perfect according to some altruistic set of rules will eventually lead to a massive meltdown and set you back to square one on the path of rediscovery all over again.
3. Be content.
   Wherever you are, at whatever stage of life you're in, be content. Choose joy instead of sorrow...or moping. Choose to believe that your life can and will be abundant and awesome. Don't fall into the trap that life is boring or a grind or that some things will never happen for you. Keep your head up and your eyes open to the good things in life. It's meant to be lived with a smile on your face!
4. Listen to your body.
   It's not lying when it says it's tired. Don't push yourself to do so much all the time. Learn how to live the balanced life and give yourself permission to take days off just for the hell of it!
5. Ask questions. All the time.
   I have found that my lack of being willing to speak up at certain times has robbed me of potentially great opportunities and some wisdom. I've also realized that in not asking questions, mainly about God and who that might be, I held myself back from a wonderful part of the life journey. I could have delved deep and enjoyed the richness that is the spiritual part of my life for many years in my twenties if I had only been willing to ask those questions that I thought were maybe innappropriate or not allowed. Such rubbish! It's OK to ask questions, many of them! Sometimes  over and over again. 

I'm sure there are other things I would tell myself, but I like to imagine this conversation with a time limit....say the amount of time it takes to drink a cup of coffee. And I don't know that this is even the best stuff to be said. But I can see, looking back, there was a pattern that I think most twenty-somethings fall into: worrying about what everyone else might say or think about what they are doing.

For me, it was a pattern of fear. 

And while I may not be completely fearless in all areas of my life, I can only hope that my passion for living a life of true freedom will continue all the way to the end. 

This Not Knowing Has Its Charm

I plan. I make lists. I make lists about making lists. I plot. I scheme. I will shed the brightest of lights on every last detail and nuance of every situation I enter. And I always have a plan to somehow master whatever I put my hand to.

You can't do this in relationships. Not possible.

I have a new mantra I'm trying out that basically entails letting go, ditching The Plan, and just letting whatever will be be. And I am taken aback at how quickly I've adapted to my new life slogan. Yet again, I find myself in a relationship, but this time with a new game plan in that there is no plan. I have no expectations, no designs on the man, and oddly enough no worries.

My heart is a kite tethered by a string of wisdom.

It can go where it pleases, but is ultimately guided by the experiences and smarts I've gained in my 32 years of living. And this not knowing of what will be has its charm. This not knowing is OK with me. Every once in awhile it may just be alright to not know every detail of every little thing that is yet to come. It may just be the right thing to be in dark for once.

Little Signposts

Sometimes, people like to bring things up from my past that really needn't be brought up. And sometimes, because I'm totally cool like this, I'll later hop on Facebook and end up comparing myself to someone or 500 someones just to drive those negative comments home to myself. And then I'll inevitably fall into a slump that deserves a blanket, big couch, and pint of ice cream to complete its pitiful look.

Sometimes, I'll do this at the least opportune moment so that I can feel awful when I'm, let's say, teaching a classroom full of students and can't possibly have the meltdown or pity party I want to have right at that moment.

Sometimes, I forget who I am, what I've accomplished, and what really matters and will ask the heavens in a shaky little voice, "Why am I here?" 

The question ridiculously implies that I've had no control whatsoever over my past decisions and that some Greater Being just plopped me down into a completely foreign place. And I think we both know that's not true.

And it's on days like those that I am grateful for little signposts.

The night of my stupidity and comparison relapse I decided to take my dinner break in the classroom. Almost all the students headed to the cafeteria and only one student stayed behind, pretending to not be hungry while surfing the internet. I began to chat with my left behind student about his low grade in my class and told him he was too smart to be failing when he turned around and with big eyes began to pour his little heart out to me about his personal life.

I let him talk and talk until he ran out of words about his hometown, how much he missed his family who moved away to the other side of the world the minute he left home, and how scary real life is for an eighteen year old kid. We talked about my first time away from home and how frightening it was to only be two weeks out of the house when 9/11 disrupted the world's plans and America's comfort level. I told him how it's always rough to be someplace new for at least the first six months. And he smiled. And he told me that I was right, he really was too smart to be failing my class.

He smiled. And he knew he was smart.

That was all I needed. I knew why I was there. I had always known, but sometimes I just need those little signposts, those little messages that tell you you're right where you are supposed to be and all is as it should be.

Peter, Peter

It wasn't too long ago that I embarked on an adventure.  Although, I find myself on an adventure that wasn't in my plans and each day has been a little bit of a battle.

Just to catch you up to speed...
I've recently stepped out of my boat.
I've started on a journey that's not exactly on solid ground.
I'm fully aware of the fact that no person can actually walk on water.
And yet I've been tempted to see if I am so special that maybe I could.

This morning I woke up feeling anxious. I couldn't take my eyes off my boat. It had drifted just far enough away that I felt I could never make the swim back. Panic-stricken, I look to the sides and saw monstrous waves waiting to barrel overhead and swallow me whole. If waves had eyes, these were staring me down. I felt my feet begin to slip beneath the surface of the water. And in the midst of my noisy sea all I could hear was this: 

Are you looking at the water, Peter, or are you looking at me? 

I know my name isn't Peter, but I recognized the voice and knew to whom it was directed.

I was looking at the water. I was drowning and all I could do was describe the strength of the waves and how deep they seemed to be. But then I heard that voice. It was The One who whispered to me about this adventure, knowing that danger and excitement lied ahead. The One who recently told me that this will be my best year yet. The One who has led me by still waters and fed me green grass before I ever got out of my boat.

So, I changed my gaze. I looked up; the raging waters only in my peripheral. And there, right in front of me, I found peace.

A Case Of The What If's

This is too hard.

It's never going to happen.

I give up.

Phrases I've spoken from time to time that are usually preceded by some difficulty or barriers that can be hurdled with enough determination and the correct mindset. Recently, I've found my thoughts bouncing between both ends of the spectrum, one side saying I'm almost there and that dreams will become a reality, the other side saying to throw in the towel and call it a day.

Last night, I was out for run with nothing but the fresh air, a little music plugged into my ears, and my trusty old running shoes. I always like the way it feels to run long distance. I know the minute I get beyond my neighborhood I'm officially on an adventure. Given the back roads and dirt paths that I often run, there's no one close by to pick me up right away if I get tired. There are no cabs, trolleys or shuttles waiting off to the side for emergencies. If I want to get home I'll have to get myself there. And while at times this is an exhausting thought, the thrill of not knowing whether or not I can truly make it keeps me moving forward, pushing through all those leg aches and side cramps.

It was at about mile 4 of my run last night when a cramp in my ribs started whining to my brain that it was time to stop or slow down. So, I did what I always try to do first and started breathing a little more deeply, counting to 3 on the inhale and counting to 3 on the exhale. I know what it's like to push through the pain and taste victory. I also know what it's like to stop all together and inevitably end up kicking myself for not trying to get a little farther down the road. It was while I was breathing deeply that I started to have "what if" thoughts.

What if I gave up right here and just around the bend was a pile of cash just waiting for someone to pick it up?

What if I stopped running and just around the corner is Ryan Gosling, stranded, and in need of a cute, single girl's help?

What if what I truly want is right in front of me and just within reach?

What if the reason why life is sometimes really tough and the feeling to quit becomes so overwhelming is because our goals, our dreams are just about to be realized? 

I finished that run last night without slowing down, stopping or quitting. I ran just about 5 miles and it was the longest distance I've ever run by myself. No one was next to me chanting in my ear, "You've got this, girl!" There was no elusive pile of cash around any of the corners I rounded and Ryan Gosling was nowhere to be found. But I reached my goal last night. I finally ran the distance that I've been wanting to say is my short run, all by myself, without it feeling too painful.

I went to bed last night in peace. It was a peace I had been missing; the kind of calm presence that says, "I'm not worried. I know what I want is just up ahead." I may not know exactly how the life I want is going to become a reality, but I'm up for the adventure. I'm willing to keep going, to see what's just around the bend.

This Little Light Of Mine

I'm about to embark in a whole new direction. I'm taking a risk. I'm actually taking a whole mess of risks. It feels like cannon balling in a tank full of eels and hoping that none of you them make you regret making the jump.

I've been house sitting for some family friends this week and have had so much time to myself in the past 7 days it's been down right silly. I can't remember when I had this much alone time. And while at time's it's been a bit too quiet, it has been one of the most enjoyable weeks I've had in...I can't remember when! I've just been marinating in the sweet peacefulness of solitude and listening to the little whispers that tell me to keep moving on, to just float and enjoy the momentum that is carrying me forward.

This morning I woke up and shlumped around the house, decidedly taking the morning off to figure out the source of a funk that nagged at me since the moment my eyes fluttered open, when a dear, old friend called and showered me with much needed praise and encouraged me to do more, be more. For the rest of the day her words of praise echoed in my head and made me wonder if I have been holding myself back in certain areas. Had I been restraining myself from using all of my talents in fear that they would separate me from others or that it would drive people away?

I wondered if I had been hiding my light under a bushel, as the old song says.

And isn't that ridiculous? Isn't it completely nuts to assume that the people who will and do love all the different parts that make up who you are would run screaming for the hills, because you posses a talent that they don't? Yes. The answer to that insane question is yes.

So, here I go, ready to take a leap yet again.

Dear Lover

Have you ever had a time in your life where every day is so jam-packed with signs meant only for you that your whole self is exhausted at each day's end just thinking about It All?

This is the very time in which I live.

Not too long ago this City Girl learned how to identify her own seasons without depending on someone else to point it out. And this Girl has since then experienced a few different kinds of weather, if you will. Some days the storms raged, the rains beat down upon this body while other days heralded some glimpses of sunshine and the birds all around sang overhead. It was on one of those sunny days that deep in the recesses of this Girl's mind were heard these words, "The adventure starts now."

I am on the brink of yet another short move and a possible small shift of the career that is both exciting and frightening. While I starfish on the floor at the end of every day, exhausted and overwhelmed, I look up at the aged ceiling, full of strange holes and cracks, and wonder to myself how this life could actually be mine. How could this life, so full of the amazing and mysterious, belong to this Girl?

I never knew life could feel this full, this wonderful.

It was during one of my daily drives to the center of the city that I felt a tingle in my very being; an odd spark, a feeling I hadn't felt in some time. It's a feeling that is often accompanied by all the songs on the radio making sense, being kind to strangers for no reason, and gushing to anyone within earshot. I was in love. I still am. And as strange as it may sound, I find myself in daily love with The One who whispered to me that it was time for adventure, The One who has been overwhelming this little heart with omens of a great and glorious future, The One who has been with me since the very beginning.

The adventure, dear lover, has indeed begun.