Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
It was raining. Pounding down on the cobblestone roads with excited fierceness. Soon the road was a river too high to pass without drowning my shoes. So I stopped inside a doorway and watched. Cars raced by parting the seas like Moses. Dogs hurried from door to door. My rain splattered clothes started to seep water onto my shivering skin.
And then, from out of the corner of my eye, I saw something moving in the distance. It came closer and closer, riding the tiny waves, whimsical in its movements, making me smile even before I knew what it was. First its flag, then I saw the rest…it was a boat! A newspaper boat! And it was riding the new river through town, its little flag flapping in the wind, its happy little mood taking the sting out of an otherwise dreary moment.
How did I forget about newspaper boats on rainy days? I mustn’t forget to teach my daughter. I mustn't forget to remind myself. Ride the wave, Brynne, ride the wave.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Yesterday at my favorite café I sat writing. Writing and sipping my new special drink. (You can fill in the blank to whatever your favorite is) So there I was, writing and sipping, enjoying my morning, when a man came and sat in the squishy chair across from me. We smiled. Or maybe it was just me that did. I think he did back. He was tight. I like to smile at tight hearts.
A little while later when I assume his coffee had filled his bladder, he piled his newspaper onto his ipad and shot off like a rocket for the bathroom. He didn’t say a word to me. Just left.
A few minutes later he returned, plopping down in his squishy chair once again. He snuck his ipad out from under his newspaper and started working again.
Well, of course I couldn’t just let the opportunity slip away. It beckoned me. I practically felt the giggles deep in the base of my belly germinating, waiting for the invitation to be released. So I burst. With a silly idea.
“When you were gone,” I said with the most serious look I could muster, “a big burly man came and grabbed your computer. He started to run away but luckily I have been lifting weights so I was able to throw him to the ground when I caught up with him. And see this,” I said pointing to a place on the side of my face, “he did this. Hit me pretty hard. Bet it will be a nice bruise in a few minutes. But at least he didn’t get away with it. I would have felt terrible if you came back and your computer was stolen. Not on my clock.” I said, shaking my head.
The whole time I was telling my elaborate story he just stared. Sat and stared. Like I was a nuts-o, middle aged woman gone mad. His eyes got bigger at moments, then tried to look away, but couldn’t for more than a second. He was trapped. He sat himself next to a wild woman and didn’t know how to get away. Couldn't, not fast enough.
“Ah, thanks,” he said. “he, he…” he said faking laughter. “Funny.” His sarcasm stunk.
“Just wanted you to know I’m your friend,” I said, smiling. But his eyes were long gone, buried in his newspaper as deep as he could possibly go.
So I left it alone, trying to keep my giggles to myself but unable to stop asking myself questions: What came over me? Was I cruel? Trying to lighten up this man’s heavy life? Or was I just a little bit crazy and even more silly? Gosh, Brynne. Ding dong. And then I kept giggling. For what seemed like ages. To myself.
About an hour or so later, Mister Uptight packs up his things and starts to leave. Before I can say goodbye, yep, that’s right, before I can say goodbye, guess what happens? He wishes me a good day and says he will see me next time with a great big genuine smile wiped across his face.
“Wow...thanks! Bye!” I said right back, my eyes sparkling as bright as the sun.
Maybe being a little bit crazy and a lot more silly isn’t such a bad thing after all.:)
Monday, September 6, 2010
I was walking on the beach, alone, in a small fishing village on Mexico’s Pacific coast. A friendly couple, one I had seen numerous times in town and found to be particularly kind in the way they smiled at me, walked toward me, holding hands. As we neared, my heart started to beat faster. Why do I keep running into them, I said to myself, might they have a message for me? As they neared, my anxiety grew, my heart now practically yelling at me to speak to them. “Excuse me,” I said gently, “I keep running into you and I can’t help but wonder why. There are many people here and still its just you two I seem to keep finding on my path. It might sound silly to you, but might you have a message for me?”
“A message?” the man said. “Gosh, let me think. No, I don’t think we do. Do we have a message for this young woman, dear? Oh, yes…wait…yes, we do. Remember that other young woman we ran into a few months ago?”
“Yes…yes…I do.” She said to her husband. “Yes, that’s the message we have for her, you’re right.”
“We met a young woman a while ago who lived her whole life in the States. As the years went by she realized she was disenchanted with her life, nothing inspired her anymore, nothing except a dream she had to move to Mexico. So, one day, she packed up her bags, and left everything behind to follow her dream.”
“Except her dog, honey. She took her dog.”
“Oh yes, she took her dog. And she told us she has never been happier, that she wished she had done it earlier so not to waste even a single moment living anything but her dream.”
“Wow,” I said, dumbfounded, my brain in hiding, my heart still beating wildly.
“That’s our message to you,” he said with a smile, “I hope it helps you somehow.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Yes, I am sure it will.” And it did. Because I honored my deepest Self, the catalyst inviting the all-knowing energy to flow through me, because I listened to my heart, I didn’t miss a valuable message, a bright light illuminating my heretofore unknown path, the net that lay right before my eyes. I had always dreamed of living in Mexico and here was a message telling me that was just what I was meant to do. So….less than a year later, not knowing a single soul, not speaking the language, not even having a job lined up, I left behind my ‘normal’ life and set out to live my dream in rural Mexico.