Gimme Gimme...

I am heading into the “big city” to negotiate my writing contract (again) this morning. I woke up early…could not sleep…knowing what lies ahead of me…negotiations (shudder).

Negotiations requiring so much that it makes my head spin just thinking about it.

Negotiations calling for confidence, for courage.

Negotiations demanding determination and decisiveness.

Negotiations selling my strengths, and owning my weaknesses.

Negotiations selling …myself….and owning…what I want.

I lace up my trusty sneakers, head out into the still dark pre-dawn morning , and I run.

I run for miles. I run forever. I run for answers.

I run for myself.

I run in search of myself, and the response to that question that I know is coming….”What are your expectations, Miss Miller?”

When asked what I want to be paid….how will I answer what I am “worth?”

When asked what I am wanting exactly...how am I to say what I "deserve?"

When asked what I can bring to the table…....how will I "sell" myself ?

When asked to choose between fulltime and freelance….how will I decide between the longing for stability versus that fierce fight for freedom raging within me?

When asked what I want….how will I tell you…I want it ALL.

Stride by stride, I succumb to the sensations swirling around me. My muscles burn. My mind spurns… more thoughts…and they turn…over and over…mulling…musing…running ahead…running alongside…running behind…me.

Gemma Hayes has a song that I love…with a line that voices so much…with so few words.

“Today I ran for miles. Just to see what I was made of.”

* And yes, Gemma. I did *

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZVpeUzorio

Say What~

Just yesterday I got an opportunity to meet a friend in Maui, all expenses paid. * Ask me if I took the offer?* (Duh!) I packed my backpack, then proceeded to coax and cajole my battered bug along the Kamehameha Highway…heart excited and bent towards the promise of a fun-packed, carefree weekend getaway. I arrived and met my friend.

Memory lane was traversed….in actuality, it seems more like ‘skipping’ would describe our chosen state of mind/ mode of transportation into the path of our pasts. The short, inter-island flight literally (and figuratively) flew by as we caught one another up on present day shenanigans and what-nots.

I soon realized, however, that underneath this peaceful and poised exterior, there lied a pained and bleeding spirit. After several hours of conversation *and just as many (okay, if not more) glasses of wine,* I had heard the full story. I had gone over in minute detail the plot that pained my friend so much. I felt I had met them there, had practically memorized the sorrow-filled script that had brought them to the islands in search of an escape.

My initial instinct when I see friends in pain is to want to fix it…to make that pain stop…to obliterate any hardship and suffering from their entire sphere of being. Yet I remembered something that a friend had shared with me in my past emotional purgatories. I remember I was in the middle of a breakdown * tears, Kleenex, runny nose, asthmatic wheezing, blithering…(you get the picture)*. I mean, I was really going at it, letting myself ‘speak truth’, allowing free reign to fully ‘FEEL these feelings’ and giving myself permission to ‘release them’ * oh, with gusto! * As I looked up, naively expectant of being greeted with sighs of sympathy, a heart melted, and a compassionate countenance, I was instead met with a fixed, expressionless stare (straight through the core of me did her eyes slice,) and a bold, monotone: “Well, that does suck Andy…SO NOW WHAT?”

As this flashback reverberated in my brain, the remembrance of its healing (albeit shocking) quality (and my reluctant acceptance of this reality of responsibility to move towards positive action) bolstered me towards my own brash move…

I repeated this same question to my friend. The scene played out in response was eerily familiar. I received the same shocked silence....followed by that momentary mulling of the mind (I imagined a spout of steam tufting through earlobes as I waited)…the sharp intake of breath (I believe as the pain of hearing hard truth is processed and compartmentalized)…the exhale of realization/ resignation/ acceptance of the reality that is…and then…then… the eyes raised to meet my gaze (as if my own mirror). To meet me here (wherever “here” is)…to look that daunting question square in the eye:

So.

Now.

What?

We don’t usually know right away. I sure as hell don’t have the answers…but I do know that there is always room for this question…with every breath…in every moment…a challenge for growth, a spur towards change… a catalyst championing forward motion.

I head home today, back to the life I love. I am happy and hopeful…yet have a newfound awareness….

I am responsible.

I go now...the next what awaits~

Enough~

One Girl. Nine destinations. Five countries. Fourteen Flights. Eleven hotels. Six passport stamps. One camera. Twelve photo albums. Six new brothers. Four reunions. Two care packages. One backpack. Two pairs of running shoes. Three marriage proposals (yes…really). Thirty swims across a sea. At least nine meltdowns (that’s one per destination for all you math wizzes out there…) Countless boxes of tissues (only slightly fewer fetal positions crouched in a corner). A smattering of fist bumps and random hi-fives. Four distinct happy dance occasions (or at least all you’ll ever know about!) =====è One woman.

One woman. Two perspectives regarding life’s path:

1) Go, go go!....Out…Beyond…Seek ...Reach…Search...the unknown. Revel in the independence and freedom offered by this amazing opportunity. Grow, Learn. Fear. Conquer. Overcome. Persist…..Become.

2) Stop, Stop, Stop! Be still…Look. Listen. Reflect. Recognize. Remember. Appreciate. Embrace…the known.

Two choices.

Ultimately, I choose both. Presently (tangibly) I choose “HOME” ~

I look around me and see such goodness. Blessing. Abundance…and I hear whispers of: enough.

[I have had] Enough [I have seen] Enough [ It is] Enough [I am]…

Fluidity~

A conversation with a friend of mine last night sparked so many things in my heart and mind. We were talking about life and choices. Forks in the road—and atlases hard to decipher (some that are quite possibly meant to be so). My friend was quick to remind me of the perspective that, when adopted in life—causes one to see these things as negative, positive, or merely as “being.” This perspective, as he kept describing it, I recognized as what I now call “the fluidity of life.”

For so long I lived in the future…in “what if’s” and “maybe I shouldn’t s.” I was so concerned over the consequences of my choices. Every little detail of my life needed to be laid out before me…to be figured out in intricate detail. The finality with which I saw facing each decision I ever made is heartbreaking. This year especially, I have come to learn that life is about making many, many choices. Some will be spectacular, and cause such a flow of life and joy and “rightness” to flow fast on their heels. Some will just be recognized as the fitting one. But not all of them will be great—many will be downright idiotic, reckless and yes, even foolhardy (in the light of hindsight, of course). Yet (oh how I love that one small word!)…YET…these decisions will be actively made…issuing forth signs and evidence of investment in myself and the journey…of engaging in life and its ebb and flow…of being a willing and viable participant in the process of pursuit.

There is fluidity to life. I see that now. The world is open. God is available….He gives me choice…He opens doors (plural) and allows me to venture….to journey…to embark. I was scared before…of making a mistake. Now I see fluidity. I will make decisions. I will make them boldly. I will go all out (For the win!)…and I will walk in those decisions, and the light offered by them. I will recognize those that bear fruit--beautiful fragrant sources of sustenance and satiety. And I will see those that are barren…and then I will reassess. And I will live~