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.

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.

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.