The Place Where I Belong

There's something so delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never can tell quite where they'll take you. Mine took me here. Where I belong. -Miss Potter

There's no name I'm aware of for that space in between letting go and holding on. It's that space of Just Being. That place where you allow things to grow and move. That area that allows a life to breathe. 

I moved back to The Beach 3 years ago next month. I had no plan for the first time in my life. I figured I would move back and the right opportunities would present themselves. I also knew on some level that I needed the space, my own space, to create and live and be.

I gave myself that luxury of living in that space of Just Being and I dare say I never left. 

And I didn't know where my plan of having no plan would lead me, but here I am.

I own 2 businesses, I teach 2 classes at the college level, and I write my own column for a local newspaper. I never thought in a million years that I would do any of these things. None of these things had ever been in any original plan I had drawn up for my future self. Not to mention the fact that I have been dating someone quite seriously for the past 6 months that I also had no plans to meet until much later when all of this career stuff could run itself. (As if it ever could.)

And yet this place of Just Being has turned out to be just right. It has turned out to be the place in which I belong.

Aloha!

I want to move to Kauai. There. I said it. I'm in love. With an island.

I know. I know. People go on exotic vacations and come back so tan and happy that they are convinced they would have a better life back on a beach in some remote location. Well, this time it's true. I would actually have a great life on that beach back on that remote island. I know the title of this blog is The City Girl, but truth be told I'm a Beach Girl. Always have been. I can't help myself. While I love a good pair of heels and getting all dolled up, I just adore a good beach day. In fact, I've been known to schedule work around prime beach hours just so I can get the absolute best sunshine of the day on this already tan skin.

I felt like I became a different version of myself on that island, the real version of myself. I finally slowed down. I slept more soundly. I craved time in the ocean and actually got out there. I laughed more. I smiled bigger. I let my hair down. (Like actually stopped wearing it all tied up on top of my head.) I lived more life on that island than I ever have back home. I enjoyed work more. (Yes, I worked while I was there. I didn't completely lose myself!) I made new friends.

I lived the good life that everyone talks about.

There is one set back, though, to the idea of actually living out there. I'm an habitual slave driver of myself. I will work until the cows come home, have dinner, brush their teeth, and go to bed. My idea of slowing down is driving the maximum speed limit. And while I was there I was constantly reminded of how much I over-live my own life (if that's even a thing). I never slow down and smell the roses, because I'm too excited to get to the destination already! So, I had to ask myself: Could I really live there and be happy in moment and really enjoy that place? And in that case, can I still live here at my beach and start to enjoy this place more than I do?

So, the plan is this: I will try to enjoy my life here a little more while secretly planning to somehow move my life out to my little island in the sun.

Thirty Days of Thanksgiving

During my drive home tonight on the long stretch of highway to my place at The Beach I began thinking about all the things I wanted to list out for each Day Of Thanksgiving. Starting last year, I try to write down at least one "something" per day that I am thankful for during the turkey month. The end of the year can become so tiresome, especially as I always feel like it's another deadline to be met and I can't help but take stock of what did or did not get accomplished in the last 11 months. But tonight all I could think of was how I could probably come up with hundreds of "somethings" to be thankful for; enough to last me a whole year!

Today my day consisted of choosing whether or not to work (for the most part, I chose not to), followed by leisurely taking phone calls and emails while catching up on my favorite TV shows; then later a facial and an early dinner with friends. And while not every day looks that way, I do work in trade with friend of mine who gives the most delicious massages, which I try to schedule in every week. Every sunset and sunrise I go to sleep and wake to the sound of the ocean crashing its way on shore. A noise that most people pay hoards of money to hear for only a few days during their vacation. And if I feel like taking a lunch break, I sometimes walk across the street, organic food in hand, to enjoy a half hour of seaside rest while soaking in the sunshine and warmth that hangs over this fair city almost every day.

This is my life.

And I know there is much more to come, but for right now what more could this City Girl want?

Lessons in Learning How to Rest, Part Ten.

Lesson Ten: Seize the Day OR 30 Days = 30 Chances
I recently said yes to a job that I normally would have said no to. Maybe it was because this City Girl has been missing life on The Ranch. Or maybe it was because recent changes have proved to weigh a little heavier on this heart than was anticipated. In any event, for the next 30 days I will be living just far enough away from The Beach that my city life will be taking a backseat to dusty roads, pie making and hauling hay.

Day One I started to think that maybe I had made a huge mistake. Life at The Beach wasn't exactly booming, but it wasn't all that bad was it? And while I did want a break from the monotony of overcast days and the white noise of rolling waves, did I really want to live 30 miles out of town with three horses and two dogs that feel like the equivalent of five foster children? I started to wonder what I had done. Just what had I signed on for?

Day Two looked a little better since a dinner with other humans was scheduled and I managed to finagle a wifi setup, but the nagging feeling of being in way over my head was still plaguing me. Today is Day Three and the feeling was still here. I had been trying to get a routine down and plugging away at some greatly neglected work to fill the time. But busyness does not cure heartache or change or even the occasional loneliness. So I stopped being busy and just sat and listened and thought to myself.

For the next 30 days I will have 30 chances to do...anything! I have 30 chances to get better at yoga, hike and see the sights, make new friends, dream up new business ideas, learn something new, grow spiritually, or just be present. I have 30 days that could change my life or I have 30 days that I can let make my life a misery.

So, once again, this City Girl is taking a leap. This time into undiscovered waters of unknown depth.

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!

No Sh*t, Sherlock. Seriously. Weed That Ish Out!

Love is, in fact, a mystery to me. I know how easy it is to meet someone new. I know how easy it can be to fall for someone. I don't know why, however, it is so damn difficult to find someone who will stick around after the butterflies settle.

I was at a dinner of about 15 girls last night. We're talking amazing women full of all the spectacular qualities from which leading female movie characters are based. And my friend this morning pointed out that only about 3 of them had a significant other in their lives. Here are a few possible conclusions that can be had based on the aforementioned details:

1. The Beach is full of stupid boys and it's slim pickin's round these parts.
2. These women are all crazy with a capital C and we all just happen to have befriended one another.
3. There are a bunch of idiot males the world over that wouldn't know a good women if she slapped him in the face. 
4. All of us just haven't found the right person yet. 
5. All of us have found the right person, but the timing sucked.

Too many variables for this City Girl. I need a detective. A love detective. Someone who can get to the bottom of this one for me.

There's no place like home.

I drove myself back to The Beach yesterday. I've been staying with good friends since I got here and waiting for "the feeling" to hit me. The feeling that tells me I'm home. The feeling that makes everything all right, perfect. It hasn't yet. If anything, driving around this place kind of feels like visiting my old high school haunts...or something along those lines. Every street corner is so familiar and crowded with memories, but clearly feels like a place from my past.

After 6 or so hours of driving yesterday I did something I never do. I turned off the radio and drove the last hour in silence. It was beautiful. A perfect hour of peace that surrounded me and filled up all the spaces of my car. I had had ideas pass through my mind all day, or rather day dreams, but in that last hour I thought clear, concise thoughts. Thoughts that mattered. Thoughts that meant something to me then and even now, today.

I realized before I even reached The Beach that no matter where I land next it won't feel like home. At least not right away. The road has become my home. The airport is my living room and hallway. Random couches and hotels have become my bedroom. My life fits best into a 22" x 14" piece of luggage. Wanderlust has become my lifestyle.

Work hard, play hard.

I recently had an appointment with a new chiropractor and had to list off all of my past ailments including any incident that would send one to the emergency room. I was somewhat embarrassed to admit that I've had more than my far share of ER visits in the past.

As I listed off my tangled web of concussions and broken bones to this new doctor I noticed that his note taking could barely keep up with my lengthy speech. I stopped mid-sentence and blushed at his furious scribbling. I started to say how I was probably the first girl that he'd ever had in his office with such a sordid history when he stopped me and said, "If someone doesn't have a long list like yours, they haven't played hard enough." This, of course, made me smile and blush even harder.

I later felt like I had walked out of his office with a gold star. I was almost beaming at the thought that somebody would view my history of accidents as a memorable memoir. My failed attempts didn't mark me a failure, but rather an avid liver of life!

Every time I've taken a fall in the past the following questions race through my mind:

1. Did I just break another bone?
2. Oh crap, is that blood? 
3. Exactly how many people just saw me do that?

A concept I've been slowly grasping during my "life sabbatical" this last year is that it doesn't matter what others think. Don't let the opinionsthoughtsfeelings of others dictate what you do and who you become.

Of course this concept would finally resonate with me in yet another doctor's office. Ha!

I have by no means perfected this mindset, but I do feel that I am armed to the teeth with a new outlook on life. So, as I begin to look for a new place to live at The Beach I am not letting outside influences have an effect on my decisions. I will just continue to work hard, play hard and live out my sometimes clumsy life.

Little Projects...Part Two.

It's either that good old-fashioned country air or the fact that I have absolutely nothing better to do. Either way, I decided to sew a purse. A purse, I might add, that I've been planning to make for the past couple of years, but whatever.

Ahhh, city life strikes again.

And on that note, I may be moving back to The Beach. Soon. Stay tuned...

The linger.

It was like something out of a movie. Or so said my friend, with a twinkle in his eye, when I told him my latest tale of love and other things...

I visited the possibility last week. The one who sent cupcakes in honor of this year's Black Monday. The one I turned down not that long ago, because he wasn't right for me.

Or was it that I wasn't ready for him?

It was supposed to be a friendly visit. And it was. It was a friendly visit that ended with me lingering. You know...THE linger. The linger that says way more than it should. The linger that invites trouble and possibility.

The linger turned into a quick kiss. The quick kiss was followed by me walking out the door and driving away. And the drive lasted all of two minutes before I turned the car around, marched myself back to his front door and did something I never thought I would do. I was brave. I was gutsy. I was also in the perfect position to be shut down, turned away, told no.

Even thinking about it now...Eek!

I stood in front of his door for a few minutes before I got the nerve up to knock. And then I waited. Nothing. I realized right then that I had the chance to back out. Instead, I pep talked myself into ringing his doorbell. I waited again. And then I saw him. He saw me. There was no backing out at that moment. I knew that if I made up a flimsy excuse that I would hate myself forever. Or at least for the next few weeks. So, I took some old fashioned advice and just told the truth.

I missed him.

The next weekend was full of the usual dating things, and in this case. getting to know each other all over again. It was good. It was sweet. It was so...easy. And for this City Girl, easy isn't something I'm adept at. It's nothing I'm familiar with. Easy has never been in my dating vocabulary.

Sadly, my usual relationships appear to be this difficult.

And speaking of easy, it looks like my plans of moving to Portland have been slightly derailed by a new career possibility back at The Beach. Nothing is official, by any means. Nothing has been decided upon. Nothing has been written in stone or on any legal papers. But let's just say that the signs I thought would be pointing me north by now may not be showing up...

Heart, meet head.

When it comes to your heart, does it ever truly connect with your head? And should it even bother?

I've recently found myself getting swept away by a possibility. In the beginning, this possibility was more of "we'll see" and less of a sure thing. Later that possibility became a no. And then later, a resounding no along with other possibilities. And now...now that possibility has gained strength; becoming a strong possibility.

Amidst my impending move and this possibility are some fierce opinions between my head and my heart. My heart is excited, passionate, and longing while my head is attempting to wrestle its way to the lead with reason and logic. I feel like I've become the rope used in a tug of war. And with Black Monday and a trip to The Beach just around the corner, I have found that my head is starting to give way to my heart as it fantasizes about this possibility and what's to come...

No place like home...

I realized a couple of days ago why coming back to The Beach was so easy; why it felt so right. I was (or still am) staying at The Little Apartment. A friend of mine moved into The Little Apartment when I moved out and now I'm staying at her place as a guest. When I first walked in it felt as though I were walking into a new house. New decorations were on the walls and a different aura surrounded the place. And yet it felt so much like coming home. And at the best possible time, I might add. A time when I desperately needed a break from my life.

And so whether I am in The Country or back at The Beach, there is no feeling like coming home. And no place like it, either.

Much better, thanks!

Thank you Rob Hardin for this photo. Who ever you are...

Every time I hit the road (or the skies) it feels like a fresh start. A new life of sorts, new beginning. A completely different chapter in my book with the same theme throughout. I'm still me when I travel. I'm the same girl wearing heels, getting out of a cab as the one who goes running on uneven back roads in The Country. Almost feels like a double life.

When I was a kid I went through a string of fantasy careers in my head. I always thought I would be some big corporate yahoo with a giant expense account, living in a fabulous penthouse on the top floor of a fancy high rise in the city. Or maybe I would be a doctor running around the ER, wearing scrubs, saving lives. Or maybe, just maybe, I would be a spy. A double agent. Someone who leads two separate lives. One highly dangerous, one feet-draggingly normal.

I still want to be Sydney Bristow oh-so-bad!

I may not have become a spy (although, I'll never tell!), but I did get my double life. One on the road, one normal. And every time I hit the road I can't stop my mind from wandering. And I almost always come back to the same thought: Oh man...life isn't going the way I planned at all. Thank God! This is way better!

Actually, a lot of days are like this...

Last night I drove back to The Beach with a good friend. And as we drove by the water I felt as though the car got sucked back into a bubble. The bubble I used to live in. And I have never been happier to see this place. The place I never planned on leaving had it not been for my "rock solid" plans changing. Although, if I hadn't left the bubble for my double life I never would have experienced all the amazing places I've been since.

Couple days at a castle by the sea, anyone?

Thank you austindara.com for this last photo!

Can I make that house payment in Euros?

I had an enlightening conversation today that made me wonder if I should rename this blog: City Girl Takes on Yet Another Adventure.

I miss my friends from The Beach. I miss them all the time. Almost every single day. I haven't been able to put my finger on it. Until today. I had been thinking this lately: Do I still miss them, because they're so much cooler than most other people? Or maybe it's because I just haven't found the perfect set of friends up here just yet. Or is it because I just simply miss them?

The answer is: not quite. I miss them, because they are the rowdiest bunch of adventure seekers I've ever met. There's no doubt in my mind that my motley crew of friends have an insatiable desire to constantly chase adventures the world over. That's our meeting point. The one thing everyone has in common. And everybody's adventure schemes always look different, but it's still the same underlying excitement of seeing new places, meeting new people and trying new things.

Jumping into bodies of water buck-naked? Check!


Anyway, the enlightening conversation went a little something like this:

E: "A friend of mine told me the other day, 'I can't wait for you to have your own house that you can decorate and settle down in.' Not one ounce of me has ever wanted to do that."
CG: "Me either! I had someone tell me the other day how I would stop traveling when I have kids. No I won't!"
E: "Yeah, I don't think I'll ever settle down like that."
CG: "I just always figured that when I finally do have kids I'll just buy another hammock. A baby hammock...for the treehouse we'll live in. Ha!"

The reason this conversation lit up my face and entire day was because while I want to buy a house, I've been sort of dragging my feet about the whole thing and feeling somewhat bummed about the idea. Almost like I was being pressured into living in a big house all alone. I couldn't figure out why. Why wouldn't I want to take the next grown up step? What's the big deal about buying a house? (A cheap house at that!) And it hit me....I never had plans to actually live in it. Everyone else around these parts buys a house to live in it. Raise a family in it. Have dogs running around the yard. I want to buy a house so I can rent it out to weekenders from The City. I have next to no plans of actually spending day after day in between those four walls, working from home and watching daytime TV. I want a house for completely different reasons than the average bear. I want something that pays me to go on adventures.

Can I get an amen!