Single Wide Female: The Bucket List Mega Bundle - 24 Books (Books #1-24) (78 page)

Still I lingered for a few minutes. I soaked in the beauty that surrounded me and made a silent promise to myself to never lose sight of it again. Although there were many things in life that could weigh on my mind, I needed to remember not to take anything too seriously.

When I stood up on the rock, I noticed that there was a little green frog on a lily pad not far from me.

“Hi there.” I smiled at him.

He croaked and then jumped right onto the rock with me. I felt a twinge of the excitement I’d felt as a little girl. Even though it was silly, I decided to give it a shot.

Chapter 9

I scooped the little frog up into my hands. The frog was content in my palm. He stared right up at me. I ignored the slightly squeamish feeling in the pit of my stomach and puckered up. I placed a peck right on the frog’s mouth.

The frog jumped out of my hands. For a split second I expected him to transform into a handsome prince. Instead, he croaked again and the blue stone that I’d placed on the flat rock in front of me popped right out of the frog’s mouth. At some point during my meditation the frog must have snapped it up.

I stared at the stone with disbelief. If there was ever a sign, this had to be one. I had kissed a frog, and blue had popped out. No, it wasn’t exactly the same as the frog transforming into a prince, but maybe it was a hint as to who my prince might be.

I fished a tissue out of my purse and picked up the stone. I was thrilled that I had gotten such a clear message, but at the same time I was a little sad. I’d always thought of Max as my prince. But maybe it was time to move on from that. Maybe it was time to follow the signs instead of being so stubborn about what I wanted.

As I walked back toward the main area, I felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. No matter who my prince might turn out to be, I knew one thing for sure—that I was going to be a writer. There was no more room for self-doubt or excessive criticism. It was my dream to create, and just like with meditation, I didn’t have to force it—I just had to allow it to be.

All of the other people that had been meditating seemed to be finishing up at the same time. WindStar saw me walking toward her and hurried over.

“You’re back already? Did you give up?”

“Not at all.” I smiled with pride. “I did it. I had the most amazing experience. Now I know how to meditate. Now I can do it all the time!”

“Oh?” She laughed a little. “I’m so happy for you, Samantha. I knew that you could. But remember, meditation is not really something that you do. It’s also not something that is the same every time. You may have to try different methods at different times—to relax enough to allow your instincts to take over. But now that you’ve experienced it once, it will be easier to recognize what is working and what isn’t.”

I nodded at her words. I wondered how she would react if I told her that I had kissed a frog. I had a feeling that she would be tickled by the story. But I wasn’t ready to share it just yet. All I was really ready to do was get home and write.

I exchanged a few quick goodbyes with the others at the seminar. The woman who had been perched on top of the large rock was missing. I whispered a quiet apology and then headed toward my car.

One of the things I had learned about meditation was that it could be dangerous. I didn’t regret anything I had experienced, though, aside from perhaps the fire ants in my pants. I drove back toward the city with a light heart and a mind full of inspiration.

When I hit traffic, that light heart sunk a little. The inspiration I felt began to fade as I heard people cursing at one another and blaring horns. There were no subtle sounds of nature in rush hour on a city street. As the power of my meditation began to disperse I felt a distinct sense of fear.

Was it really so easy to lose that connection?

I closed my eyes for just a moment and thought of the little girl splashing through the water. Just as I began to feel light again someone behind me blared their horn. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Note to self—no meditating while driving.

I managed to make it the rest of the way to my apartment without causing any more traffic incidents. When I stepped inside I headed straight for the bath. I wanted to make sure that there were no fire ants hiding out.

As the water filled up the tub I decided to update my blog. I settled in front of the computer. I didn’t want to recount the entirety of my experience. I didn’t want to reveal details that were too intimate. Instead, I decided to talk about why I had kissed a frog.

It was a quick and humorous post. I left the part out about the blue stone that the frog had spit out. But the words were meant for Blue. Would he know that he might just be my prince? Would he feel the same way? My heart fluttered at the thought of him reading my words.

Even though the time away from the computer and my cell phone had been good for me, it felt delicious when my fingertips coasted across the smooth surface of the keys on my keyboard. It wasn’t just something I was doing any more, it was my passion. It was exactly how I was supposed to spend my time.

I published the update and then headed for the bath.

It felt amazing to sink into the warm water. It was strange, but everything seemed just a little more beautiful to me. Little things that I’d barely noticed before, like the silk of the soap against my skin, seemed to make me smile. I liked the way I felt, with a lot less fear, and a lot more hope for the future.

I knew that I would have to continue to practice meditation to maintain this new perspective. I understood why WindStar had called it a spiritual journey. It was never just one meditation. It was an endless cycle of development—just like my bucket list was for me.

There would always be a new adventure to try and a new corridor of my inner self to wander down.

Chapter 10

While the water drained from the tub, I took a little time to appreciate my body. I thanked it for all that it did for me each day. Then I gazed in the mirror until I really saw its beauty. I ignored all of the places and flaws that I liked to nitpick.

Instead, I saw it for what it was. It was my body. The only one I had. The same one I had when I was a little girl hunting for frogs and the same one I would have when I gave birth to my own child. It was the same one I would have when I climbed my first mountain and the same one I would have when I reached old age. It saddened me to think that I had treated it with such disdain for so long.

I pulled on my robe and headed for my bedroom. Once there I noticed there was a new message in my e-mail. I felt a buzz of excitement rush through me as I sat down in front of it. It was from Blue.

SWF,

I’m not sure exactly how to say this. These past months of following your blog have been a great experience. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. I even looked forward to meeting you. But now everything has changed. I’m not sure how to feel about that. I mean, I know that you are free to do as you please, but I thought we had a real connection.

I paused in the middle of his e-mail. My heart was racing. Why in the world was he saying all of this? Was he trying to end things with me before they’d ever begun? Was the frog absolutely wrong? I took a breath and continued to read.

Maybe it was my imagination. I thought you felt it too. I’m sorry if I’m a little upset, but to find out this way—through a blog post—is rather hard on me.

I was still thoroughly confused. I wondered if I’d typed something that I was completely unaware of writing. I forced myself to continue reading.

I understand that you can’t stop love. It is what it is. Trust me, I know it is too powerful to control. I guess I just never expected that something so green and small would steal you away from me. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m really jealous of that frog.

Always,

Blue

I burst out laughing at his final words. He was jealous of a frog. I felt warm and tingly all over as I thought of him waiting for me to read that e-mail and send something back. I didn’t even think about it, I just began typing.

My dearest Blue,

I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you. What was between the frog and me was brief—passionate, yes—but momentary. Please don’t throw away everything we have over one little frog. Sure, his long legs are appealing, but he isn’t you.

Always,

I grinned as I sent the e-mail. I was sure that Blue would find it amusing.

What surprised me was how deeply it struck me when I thought that he was ending our relationship—which hadn’t even really begun. Blue was always in the back of my mind, but we weren’t even dating. The thought of never getting to speak to Blue again made my stomach drop.

Although the meditation had revealed my passion in life, it hadn’t revealed any direction for my romantic life. Even as I thought of Blue, my mind wandered back to Max. It occurred to me that maybe my romantic life wouldn’t even take me to Blue or Max; maybe it would take me to someone else entirely.

I’d spent so much time feeling as if I had to choose between the two—if I ever actually had the opportunity to be with either of them—that I’d never really considered that there might be someone else out there for me.

But the more I thought about it, the more WindStar’s words echoed in my mind.
It can’t be forced. It is something you allow
.

I had been trying to force things with Max for years. That had only led to awkward moments and a whole lot of frustration on my part. I had been trying to get together with Blue for quite some time, but our plans always hit a snafu or fell through.

Was I so blinded by what I was trying to force that I couldn’t recognize that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be?

It made me a little sad to think that, but also a bit excited. Was it possible that the reason that I hadn’t found my prince just yet was because I’d stopped looking?

I felt giddy as I headed to bed. I felt as if a new chapter of my life had just opened wide for me.

I pulled out my bucket list. I added something to it that I never thought I would. It was something that hadn’t even been a part of my initial plan to change my life. It was something that would shake things up and truly point my feet in a new direction. It was a risk, but I felt ready to take it.

Would I regret it? Would I be able to go through with it? I wasn’t entirely sure I was brave enough.

I drew a heart around the new item I’d added to the list. It gave me both a sense of freedom and a sense of sorrow. But it was time, and although I’d never envisioned it happening, it was going to be very important part of my journey.

I fell asleep with the laughter of a little girl lingering in my mind—the laughter that I’d left behind so long ago.

Single Wide Female: The Bucket List

#22 Quit My Job

By

Lillianna Blake

Copyright © 2015 Lillianna Blake

Cover design by
Beetiful Book Covers

All rights reserved.

LilliannaBlake.com

Chapter 1

When I woke up this morning it felt like any other morning. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I stretched my arms above my head. The buzzing of the alarm clock reminded me that it would not be okay to curl up and go back to sleep. I sat up and switched it off.

Today was the day.

It made me sick to my stomach to even think about it. It wasn’t that I was dreading it, but it was such a huge change. I wasn’t sure how I really felt about it. Inwardly, I kept telling myself that I was ready for this—that it was the right thing to do. So why did I feel like I was about to make a huge mistake?

I walked over to my desk and picked up the letter I’d written a few days before. I had read it every morning since I’d carefully composed it. I read it again. It was simple and glowing with gratitude. It was a love letter of sorts—both to the owners of Fluff and Stuff and the laundromat itself.

As I set the letter back down on the desk, another piece of paper caught my eye.

My bucket list—written in all kinds of different bright colors and dotted with little doodles, it looked like it belonged on the desk of a middle schooler. That list meant more to me than ninety percent of my possessions. The task at hand stared up at me in emphatic letters.

Quit My Job

Many people quit their jobs. It’s not that big of a deal. But most people quit for normal reasons. Maybe they find a better job. Maybe their schedule no longer coincides with the schedule the job offers. Maybe they’re sick to death of the job and are ready to run down the street shouting that they quit. But none of those reasons applied to me.

I loved Fluff and Stuff. I considered it my second home. It had been ever since I started working there right out of school. Now I was faced with the arduous task of what felt equivalent to removing a limb.

I had to say goodbye to Fluff and Stuff. Not because I had a better job. Not because my schedule was in conflict. Certainly not because I loathed working there. I’d decided to quit my job because writing was now my passion.

I was ready to take that next step—from relying on a paycheck to fund my hobby, to relying on my hobby to fund my paycheck.

I still found myself faltering about whether this was really the right choice to make.

I decided to write a blog post about it, as that always made me stick to my goal. Knowing that other eyes—in particular Blue’s—were reading my intentions, reminded me to follow through. Once I’d posted my goodbye to Fluff and Stuff on my blog, I headed out for Patricia’s house.

Patricia had been a part of my life as long as Fluff and Stuff had been. She was in her sixties and had never been married, though she wasn’t shy about sharing stories with me of past lovers. I knocked on the door of her small home. Patricia opened the heavy wooden door and peered through the screen.

“Samantha, what are you doing here?”

“Hi, Patricia, can we talk for a minute?”

She smiled at me and opened the screen door. I stepped into her house. It struck me that I had never really been inside it before. We would spend a lot of time together at Fluff and Stuff, but I rarely saw her on a personal level. Her home was filled with knick-knacks and doilies. It was sweet, if not a little odd.