Speechless

Not sure how to make the ends of this one meet...

Garden State is one of my favorite films. Arguably, it should be one of everyone's favorite films. The soundtrack alone could really drive a good evening into a good morning into the afternoon. Sure, it has it's moments of theatrical Hollywood nonsense that will, most certainly, creep it's ugly way into every flick made from here on out. In the end though, moments exist in this film that allow the watcher to feel connected and understand the goings-on of life just a little clearer or less clear, as the case may be.

"You're in it right now." Shutters. Goose bumps. Reality hitting the walls of the mind that one attempts so cleverly to vail. This line alone. And that, my friends, is how movies are made.

Although I could sit on my stool and scribe an entire blog about my endless love for gs, the truth is, this one line, this one piece of script, is what jumps to mind this evening as I attempt to put into words what the grey matter swarming around is computing.

Cannot compute. Error Message. Little yellow, annoying exclamation point. Yes to all of the above.

I am not certain if I am so "in it" that I cannot see the forest for the trees or if I am so not invested in it that my mind (and little beating heart) refuse to attempt to see anything past the point of my little lopsided nose. (It really is lopsided...take a look next time you're face to face with the Lizzy B).

So good to be back in Florida although leaving my family and friends was difficult, I came back knowing that this was home and threw myself head first into making that notion a fact. Honesty. Is it really that difficult? Are we a people that have become incapable of just speaking what is truth? Are we a people that thrive so insanely on the feeling of presenting our feathers, all beautiful and vibrant in color that we do not dare admit that the humidity is doing a number and ruffling the hell out of our beauty?

I am in a place of duality. I stand, firmly, in a place of a split heart. You know...the hearts that we drew when we were in middle school and some little meany made us angry. If I were a betting woman, I would say I am one or two weeks away from screen-printing a split heart on a t-shirt and screaming my story at the top of my lungs to innocent passers-by who dare to ask what message t "means."

Because if I were to stand on a street corner and purge forth the reason for the screen-printing extravagance...it would be honest. At least it would be honest.

Lady is hungry for some honesty.

A good trip home. A safe place. A place surrounded with love. Palpable. Real. Honest. Love.

Huh....

Missing the big picture...

I have written and erased, written and erased, written and erased again this entry. I am not quite certain if the problem is my inability to wrap my mind around what I am thinking OR that I am normally not as vulnerable in this here cyberspace to write what I am thinking. Bear with me, folks, because this entry is, most likely going to be long and at the end, you may be left scratching that head of yours, thinking, "What are they putting in the water in St. Pete Florida? My friend is freaking nuts!"

When I moved to Florida, I pictured a life of permanent vacation. Beaches, cold drinks with umbrellas in them, sunsets. Although I knew that life would still include dirty laundry and electric bills, I saw Florida as a way to relax and reboot. A way to decompress after years of taking care of others.

Life here in Florida has held many of the aspects I had in the mental photograph. I have shared some tasty drinks with friends (I have even found beers that I actually enjoy). I have watched the sunset over the ocean on beaches that are nationally ranked for their beauty. I have driven over the ocean on one of the most beautiful bridges I have ever seen every weekday morning in my commute. I have learned what it means to have the weather determined by the ocean which has been positive and also scary at times! I have been blessed with a job that I can leave at the doorstep.

All in all...Florida has been what I pictured.

Life in Florida has come with some other blessings as well. I am choosing the word blessing very carefully because these blessings have not been easy to swallow at times. I have learned so much about myself in the few months I have lived down here. Call me crazy but I was not prepared for this move to bellow in so many moments of self reflection. You can call me crazy, it's okay. I have not a valid reason in my little mind why I thought moving away from Indiana would not come with some hurdles...I mean...blessings...

As my close friends and family know, my move has come with some major growing pains. I have spent nights in my little studio where I thought the day light would never come, tossing and turning and feeling lonelier than I ever thought humanly possible.

I have questioned this move more times than I would like to admit. At the beginning of each day, though, I am reminded that my decision was guided by much more than my want to be near the beach. I felt an urging so deeply in my core before moving and I know in my little heart that this move was not in vain.

Failure...

Failure is an odd beast. One that we often turn away from. Even in the privacy of our own minds, we tend to figure out ways to hide in corners or run rapidly through corridors where we know the realization of failure is lurking. I am not a person that enjoys admitting failure any more than the next but in this case, I can utter quite certainly, "I have failed." In one enormous (and most likely, countless others) way, I have failed since my move to the sunshine state.

I have failed to take the focus off of myself and my wants and needs and step back. Step back to the day I made the decision to come here and remember the urging I felt in my spirit. I realized today that I have given no credit to God for where I am now. I have failed to thank Him, to ask Him for His guidance, to consult with Him on anything since moving. Not one time have I gotten on my knees and thanked Him for getting me here safely, for helping me find a job, for allowing me to find the cutest little studio apartment in the cutest little part of St. Pete. I haven't asked Him for guidance on the days where I felt like I would implode into myself with loneliness. I haven't allowed Him in at all, really. Not one freaking little iota. He has been on the back burner.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. That's the sound of me backing up (you can imagine me doing a really slow moon walk backwards now if you would like! Make sure you add the robot arms.)

"So that you would walk in a manner worthy of the God who calls you into His own kingdom and glory."

1 Thessalonians 2:12

Rewind

...gninnigeb eht ot kcab gniog

A little rewind action to start off this Saturday. Why? Because a little rewind action never hurt anyone.

Funks. Funks are wickedly evil little shits and they seems to work there way in the minute we start to feel sorry for ourselves. The minute we begin to focus on all the elements of the life we lead that are less that excellent, funks seem to take that as engraved invitations to set up shop and get comfortable.

I call shenanigans.

I always find myself in interesting situations when I lose sight of why I originally started something in the first place. While I do believe in the notion that the ability to adapt is a critical one, I also believe that fluid reasoning sometimes leads to fluid everything. In the experience of lizzy dearest, when I begin to accommodate and shift and push and pull my life in directions that feel unnatural, I end up with some fairly undesirable outcomes. Go figure.

While loneliness is real and at times thick and gravely palpable, Florida is also real. Real in it's beauty and positive attributes. Real in it's gravity and natural surroundings that, if one opens themselves up to the possibilities, one will be rewarded. She holds treasures but the trick is to focus on the positive and not the less desirable.

A difficult charge but I have never been one to flee from difficulty. Rather...I think I'll kick off my sandals. Run through the sand and remember why the hell I came here in the first place. To relax. To breath. To live peacefully.

"Beginnings are scary, endings are usually hard but it's the middle that counts."

Serving thy self

What goes around, comes around. You reap what you sew. You made your bed, now lie in it. Sometimes, although hesitantly, I am forced to believe that all these phrases, and their friends who echo the same sentiments, are simply creations by a hopeful breed. A breed that wants to believe that there is balance to the madness that exists.

The beauty that exists is awe inspiring as well, please do not discount the beauty.

I fear that we little humans have created methods of thinking with which we swaddle ourselves in on cold days and nights in an attempt to explain the imbalance that teeters all around us.

Karma is a bitch. Truth emanates from the depth of this statement. Have you noticed though that at times, it seems that karma strikes rather haphazardly. As if the administrative assistant paid to keep the excel sheet with names and appropriate consequences/blessings organized has taken up chatting at the water cooler all afternoon.

This is my formal plea to the karma administrative assistant. Could you please, at least for the next few months, focus on the spreadsheet? I know the cells and columns and various colors from which to choose regarding font can be overwhelming but please...FOCUS.

Mama needs for balance to return.

For the questionable to receive what questionable individuals shall. For those who have integrity brimming and falling over the sides of their universes to receive what shall come their way as well.

Attempting...

Attempting to appreciate my new home...

The home itself is to die for. In fact, the small studio apartment that holds my thoughts and belongings is absolutely what I've wanted for years now. Ceilings high enough to hold wonder and wooden floors that go click click click when walked across. It is, if only a small piece, a piece of property meant for me. I feel a kinship with this building and I would like to think, she with me, as well.

I attempted to meet the day as early as I could muster, in order to get out and get my list of intendeds on the done list rather than the floating around in my mind list. First objective was met by 10:30am where I plopped down my current electric bill and was handed a library card. I assure you, the Florida library system does not pay for your electric bills so don't move here in a rush due to my blog. I just needed proof of address, folks. I promptly picked out a copy of "Mansfield Park," urged by the movie, "The Jane Austen Book Club" I enjoyed on Friday night.

After the library, I headed to the coffee shop where I allowed an over calor-ied sugar drink to drip down my throat as I looked through cookbooks to prepare for this week's meals. For some reason...although food is normally a no-brainer for me, I wasn't inspired by much (and have yet to do any grocery shopping for this week). Something about needing a million things for each recipe made my heart race a little and I took that as a physiological cue that maybe simple meals would be best for this week.

Dreaded budgeting was the next item to be pulled out of the "I need to do this at some point" thinning air that circled my head. And so, budget I did. Realizing that I spend way too much of my "hard earned" money on eating out...I promptly reminded myself of the need to grocery shop. After spreadsheet upon spreadsheet, I realized that the beach was calling my name.

And so...my toes met the sand and the shells with ease out on Treasure Island. It sounds quite magical, doesn't it? A place called "Treasure Island." I found four treasures there today that I plucked from nature, into my beach bag. Now, to find the appropriate resting place for these treasure shells. I suppose, they will find company amongst the rest in the bowl on my stool.

There's beauty here and I am determined to find it.

Done.

Done. Done. Done. Done.

"There's beauty in the breakdown."

Let go...let go...jump in...

It's interesting how relocating (my adult way of referring to leaving everyone you know and love with the exception of a few individuals 1,000 miles away, located directly in your comfort zone) can prompt you to learn things about yourself that you never knew; and some things you never wanted to know, to be frank.

I have found that "laying back" is surprisingly easy and that my friends, is SUCH a strange feeling for me. I have found that it's quite easy to leave work at work when the expectation is that you do so. I have found that not having anything to do all weekend long is, at certain points in life, the birthing ground for flying kites and becoming a kid again.

I have also found that my mind quiets quite easily if only in spurts at this junction, which also, my friends, is SUCH a strange feeling. I have found it quite easier to leave things where they are and allow yourself a chance to soak in whatever is floating out there, even if it may be less than thrilling.

Because, after all, life isn't always thrilling. Sometimes, life twirls around in your insides and shakes things up a bit. Platforms and soap boxes shake and microphones into which you've been screaming for eons topple over with surprisingly little force. Life isn't always about knowing what lies ahead or for that matter caring all that much what lies just past the horizon. More often than not, life is simply about embracing what lies...period.

And that my friends, is how it's done.