One Thousand Gifts

Sometimes you don't know when you're taking the first step through a door until you're already inside.

I have a framed chalkboard that hangs over my bed where I've written on it one word that I hope will somehow transfer its syllables into my brain while I sleep. At the very least, I figure if I see that one word when I wake and before I fall asleep every day it will somehow become a reality in my life. And as of last summer, this has been the place where I hang the biggest reminder to myself of what I want to see become a permanent part of my character. 

I just started reading this book about thankfulness and not because I thought to myself, "Hey, this looks great! I should read this!", but because everybody and their uncle have been telling me how life changing it is and that it's the best book they've ever come across. Quite frankly, I'd just like to be able to say I've read it so that people will stop trying to sell me on what I thought was excessive grandeur. Of course, now (much to my chagrin) I'm just a few chapters in and I find myself walking through an open door to a place I didn't know I needed to be and every word on every page is magic.

The word I wrote on my self-reminding chalkboard a few months ago is JOY. All in capital letters, written purposefully with the intent that I would truly discover what it means to have joy and be happy in all times of life. Turns out that joy isn't just some loner emotion that you take hold of and viola! you're instantly blissed out. As the book says, it's something that you get, not something that you grasp. And it has a buddy that makes it possible to have joy for ever and ever. Enter Thankfulness.

Thankfulness: The ability to be aware and appreciative of a benefit.

Much to my surprise I realized after starting this book that I had already been training myself. These past few months, if I found myself ready to gripe about something, some situation or irritating person, I would immediately stop and force myself to look at the bigger picture. And the bigger picture always showed me that on the other side of that complaint was something to be thankful for. There is always a bigger reason or plan beyond what we can immediately see in the midst of crappy situations. And so I've been training myself to assume the best and continue to preach to myself that when things don't go my way it isn't necessarily a bad thing or the sad finality of an opportunity that will never come around again, but rather it's for the best. It's for my best.

Practice is the hardest part of learning, and training is the essence of transformation. 

In complete honesty with you, dear reader, this has not been an easy thing to practice or a simple habit to change. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that my immediate reaction to most seemingly negative things in the past has been to reiterate Murphy's law of whatever can go wrong, will. Ironically, it took being thankful for the negative things to get that gift of joy. And it's not like I've been waking up every single day raring to go, but I have found little bits of joy in unexpected places. Enough to equal one thousand gifts....maybe even more.

All of the words in bold were from One Thousand Gifts or the dictionary. I'll let you guess which one was from the dictionary. ;)

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.

Lessons in Learning How To Rest, Part Thirteen.

Lesson Thirteen: Choose Joy. And peace, while you're at it!

I woke up this morning and immediately dove head first into reading. Not my usual choice. I'm more of a news watcher while curled up in a ball on the couch with a cup of something hot in my hands kind of morning person. I can only assume I had been wrestling with my own thoughts in my sleep, because when I woke this morning I didn't have much recollection of my dreams or a to-do list on my mind. Today I had only questions plaguing me from the moment my eyes fluttered open. After plowing through multiple study books, I realized that I have become "comfortable" in this season of restoration. (Yes, those quotations are meant to be there.) I've become as comfortable as one can be when shoved between a jagged rock and a brick wall covered in barbed wire.

I don't exactly remember choosing joy in this season, though. I remember decidedly muscling through a difficult and painful time. I can also recall choosing to laugh every now and then in the face of adverse situations. But choosing joy....well, that wasn't too high on the list this year. In fact, I very distinctly remember choosing to be cross with this particular phrase. My inner scrolling ticker of thoughts has been more prone to notions like this, "You choose joy, jerk. I'll choose cutting phrases and undermining wit!"

Bitter and Cynical, party of one!

And then I read something this morning about petitions in a higher place being made on behalf of us mere mortals when we aren't able to make them for ourselves. And I suddenly realized why I was able to find a resting spot in this heavy-laden and wearisome time. I didn't find it. It was a gift. And for the girl who isn't normally a fan of having decisions made for her didn't really care all that much this time. When it has felt for an extended amount of time that all hope is lost or that the proverbial shit has hit the fan, it's so nice to wake up with a slight grin on your face, hope in your heart and total peace about what's to come.

So, instead of looking this gift horse in the mouth, this City Girl is choosing the joy that has been decided for her. And she's gonna grab that peace that defies all logic while she can!

Lessons in Learning How To Rest, Part Twelve.

Lesson Twelve: If you're happy and you know it, be content.

Let's set the scene, shall we? 

Saturday morning: Exhausted, over-heated and barely awake, this City Girl dragged herself downtown for a late breakfast with a new friend. It was one of those meet-ups where you wish you could conjure up the stamina to make eye contact and carry on a conversation, but know that if you do you will end up staring at your counterpart wide-eyed while drooling into your latte with nary a word leaving your mouth that sort of looks as though it just suffered a small stroke. But this City Girl was so happy to meet up with said friend that wading through crowds of sweaty tourists to reach the café, while only having use of one eye at a time, barely swayed the happy feeling that morning. This was someone who has only begun to scratch the surface of this new friendship, but who went out of her way to become a new friend. This can only be equated to happiness, in spite of the fact that there are more friends around than can ever be counted. Being sought out never hurt anyone, amIright?

Now let's get to the point!

Fast forward to the part where the conversation gets raw. In the words of R. Kelly, it was Real Talk. We had compared life notes, talked about lifelovework and just about everything under the sun when she took a turn mid-sentence and brought up the one word that everyone (and I do mean everyone) will choke on from time to time. Content. As in, I am happy. Period. Not "I'm happy that I get to do this". Not "I'm happy that I have this boyfriend" or "I'm so rocking that job". Just happy. In all things. In all places. At all times. In all areas of life, whether they be good or bad.

Content. 

I had to ask myself....wait. Scratch that. I didn't have to ask myself. I already knew.

It's the one thing that plagues most people, whether they are aware of it or not. The one concept that keeps people awake at night. It's a word that can change everything or nothing. It's often overlooked. It's almost never considered. And it can be the toughest pill to swallow once you become aware of its true meaning.

Am I content?

And so I let that question rattle around my brain this week. Every part of me wanted to scream "YES!", because I knew it was the "right" answer. Or at least the answer that sounds the best. But when it comes down to brass tax, can I truly say that I am happy in all areas of my life? Well, as of yesterday the answer was a resounding yes, but today, as I fight feelings of frustration and sadness over being unable to make certain things in my life different, I'm teetering on the edge. My heart is toying with the thought of being unsatisfied, because my life doesn't always look the way I think it should or because things just aren't happening fast enough. And let's be honest here, dear readers, isn't that how it always goes? One day you're hot, the next you're cold. You're yes then you're no. You're up then you're down...

Thank you, Katy Perry. *ahem* Cue hope. Aaand...ACTION!

The inconvenient truth? It's a choice first and an action second. Does this require work? Oh, you betcha! Is this going to take every ounce of this City Girl's hope to keep that content feeling in place on all those cold days? Oh, most definitely. Can this truly be done? Well, this Girl's gonna try!

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...

Instant Make-Me-Over

On a completely different note, I have discovered something that people base their entire career off of and travel the world speaking about. I have met these people in the past and never truly grasped what they were saying and it's possible I just didn't believe it was for me. Now, however, that's all different. I met someone (a new friend through a mutual friend) who strongly believes in this statement. She encouraged me to find out more about myself and that meeting with her has made all the difference for this City Girl, business owner, friend, daughter, sister.

"There are no limits to what you can accomplish when you know who you are." -Stedman Graham

Absolutely L-O-V-E that idea.

In fact, I bought a book last year that changed my life. Cliché thing to say, I know, but it really, truly opened my eyes to a new way of living and excelling in my own life. Highly recommend.

Confucius say...

Today I had an epiphany while sitting on yet another plane. It sounded like the voice of God and was reminiscent of something I've read on a tea bag tag or the inside of a fortune cookie.

"All good things come with time. All great things come with patience."

I've been wrestling with myself lately, trying to be patient and kind and unassuming of the my new relationship while allowing myself to finish grieving over the last one. I've been trying my hardest to make the best of this year and fully appreciate being in every moment. And this morning I was trying to keep myself from crying from exhaustion.

As much as I would love to blame all the traveling, I am the one who exhausted myself. My lack of patience and my irritation with practically everything has officially worn me out. And, of course, had I had this thought any earlier than today I would have forgotten what I had just realized a moment later. Sometimes, it seems I have to thoroughly drain my very being before I can actually learn a lesson.