The Best Is Yet To Come

I have a chalkboard that hangs over my head while I sleep that is the full width of my bed. From time to time I would write meaningful words that I wanted to somehow absorb telepathically into my mind while sleeping or at the very least I would see and subconsciously start to believe over time.

The last phrase I wrote was something I felt had been impressed upon me about a year ago: 

The best is yet to come.

I didn't know exactly what it meant. I didn't know when The Best would get here. I simply heard those words in my mind and caught glimpses of it wherever I went. So, I wrote it down in hopes that over time I would unravel the mystery, be able to look back, and say "A ha! I see how The Best got here!"

The adventurous part about this mystery phrase I read every day I wake up and every night before I go to sleep is that the best is always somehow still coming. In some strange way this mantra has changed my perspective over time and made me appreciate when The Best is happening right that very moment and not always dreading the current place I'm in, constantly in agony over when the next big thing will happen.

That being said, I am waiting for another big part of my life to begin or happen, as it were. But for now I find myself being content to know that The Best is both here and still coming. My reasoning being that if I heard that The Best is yet to come a year ago then The Best must be here now.

And maybe The Best has been here all along.

Enough WIth The White Horse Already!

I never believed in The One. Whomever you choose to marry....well, you make each other The One.

Wise words and a huge relief for this City Girl that had been inundated with messages of Finding The One and Searching For Your Soulmate since she was a little girl.

I recently sat down to lunch with a friend and poured my heart out about love and relationships, marriage and other scary grown-up topics, and verbally processed through major life decisions that had been swirling around my thoughts. And the wisdom bomb she dropped was a huge relief.

Choose wisely whom you intend to be Your One and Only, but know that whomever you choose may not look exactly like The Knight in Shining Armor.

Some men are just men, not constant heroes who respond to my every whimper and sigh. And that's more than OK.

It was good to hear that the one we all look for – as well as all the other things in life one hopes will happen – may not look exactly like Prince Charming on His White Horse, but could instead look like real life.

And real life may actually turn out to be better than the fairy tale.

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!

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.

Honesty is the best policy.

Tomorrow I will be spilling my guts. I'm going to be honest. Extremely, openly, gut wrenchingly honest. My hands will probably sweat. In fact, all of me will probably sweat. Most of my sentences are likely to come out jumbled and half won't make sense. I'll throw in a few uh's and um's just to fill those minuscule quiet spaces that comes between words in a sentence. And if I'm lucky, I'll be able to make my point clear. I'll be able to say what I really feel instead of words that are safe and guarded.

I just got truthful with myself this past month. And I don't know which will be more difficult: when I admitted to myself my true feelings or tomorrow when I own up to my desires.

When I finally came to terms with the fact that my heart wanted The Possibility to become a Sure Thing my whole body was shaking. I had worked so hard to close my heart off again. I had become a master of building emotional walls and playing the role of the aloof bystander of love. Nothing I said was serious. Nothing I did made anyone feel too special or wanted. I was a champion at keeping love at arm's length with both arm's tied behind my back. It was the perfect illusion.

That is until my feelings took over my heart and later my mind. I had no control over how much I cared. Most days I've probably cared too much, been too concerned or worried. It wasn't until this week that I realized that all of those things (the feelings, the hoping, the pining) are so sweet. Torturous, but sweet. And while I don't know the outcome of tomorrow's conversation, I know that my heart is in a better place. It's open again.

Italy

So, I've been saying for months now that I want to go to Italy for my birthday. I'm turning a rather pinnacle age this year and refuse to turn said age in a ho-hum city. I want to be somewhere exciting doing exciting things!

Now, I've been reeeeally good lately and have turned down some very fun adventures and put off the new tattoo all for the sake of having enough money to get my patooty to Italy by September. So far, so good. I might be squeaking by, but I think I'll just make it!

Lessons in Learning How to Rest, Part Five.

Lesson 5: Just Let Go

This may be my toughest learning lesson yet. In fact, I know it is, because I find myself repeating a string of words in varied orders lately. I can't help myself. I keep hearing myself saying the same words over and over again and it has far surpassed my level of patience and annoyance. It's just like when you nick your knee while shaving your legs and the blood that just won't stop coming seems like overkill. You think the scrape isn't that bad, but try as you might no amount of pressure or bandaid fixes will stop the flow.

Some things in life are easy to let go of: the fact that you'll probably never win the lottery, getting picked over for kickball, not having the ability to walk through walls, watching some jerk steal your parking spot, etc. Other things, however, can seem like gum stuck to your shoe. It's a process that can take daysmonthsyears before all that sticks to you, all that resonated with you as your "for sure" life plan for so many years, finally falls away and fades into the past where it belongs.

I'm on the verge of another big move, the possibility became something more (although what that is I have no idea!), all the things I was told would happen didn't and I am, once again, working for myself full-time. Basically, everything that was supposed to happen hasn't, absolutely everything I'm involved in has no guarantees of working in my favor and everything I thought was never possible has become a reality. And instead of being happy with where my adventurous life is today, I've been looking back and crying over what didn't pan out. In my head I know that what failed to come to fruition was probably not the best for me, but for some reason my heart has decided to fall into a pit of funk over that fact. It's ridiculous. It's stupid. It's silly.

I had an old roommate who used to say, "Where there's fruit, there's a root." That phrase used to make me cringe, because I knew she was right. She was so, so right. And once again I hear her words in my daily thoughts. So, now instead of repeatedly mulling over the past I will only be asking, "Where is this mother effing gum coming from?!"

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.