Borders

Interrupted from my reading, I looked up to see a woman in a wheelchair creating quite the ruckus in Borders bookstore. I was borrowing a free read of The Power of Now and she was harassing the bookstore employees. She ranted about the aisles being too small...not sure why she chose to take the tightest route in the store, and she claimed she couldn't find anything. She screamed no one was helping her look for the Blue Dog book. Although the guy following patiently behind her with an armful of books and a walkie-talkie appeared to be appeasing her every need. She vented loudly to anyone near her (and across the store) and used colorful adjectives to describe her every move, and called the guy she bumped into with her wheelchair a pig. Clearly he should have seen her coming, and could have been out of her way. I was nestled into one of the comfortable leather chairs positioned between the cards section and a main aisle. There were four similar chairs all in a row. A couple of men were seated to my left and a woman on her cell phone whispering in French, sat next to me on my right. Our chairs were closer to the display shelves of cards and decorative boxes than the main aisle. However, the obnoxious woman in the wheelchair decided to barrel down the tight fit between the chairs and the card displays. She had to maneuver her chair over magazines that had been left behind, and our feet. She swore into the air at us and Borders for being there, as well as, making it too difficult for her to move along at a prosperous pace. She feigned interest in the boxes as she lightly tossed them around, and complained that the store was poorly organized. By now, I had my feet in the chair to ensure she would move along quickly. The woman on her cell phone rolled her eyes but didn't skip a beat in her conversation. I looked at the guys next to me and mouthed - "Who is she talking to?" The mean woman in the wheelchair was pushing past us with great force, bitterness and a need to complain that we were not helping her. We looked at each other bewildered. "Just sit there. Don't do anything!" She yelled at us or maybe the Borders employee who still followed behind her, picking up stuff she knocked off the shelves. She seemed miserable. I felt that she had only come to Borders to project her bitterness on others. I wasn't quite sure how to take her. I looked around the store wondering if it hadn't been laid out to accommodate handicap-challenged individuals...and was the lanky young guy following closely behind not meeting her needs? The guy next to me sighed loudly and mumbled - fucking rude. He was right.

New York City

I moved to New York City without ever having visited. Call it intuition, spontaneity or even crazy. I knew that New York City would speak to my soul...I just knew we would hit it off. I tried denying the feeling for awhile. Was in the middle of transitioning and instead of setting out for NYC at that time from Maryland, decided to move back to Florida to be near my family, even got back together with an ex boyfriend. One more time, I convinced myself, I can make this work. The best part about being back in Florida was the beautiful time I spent with my family. I was restless though. And it's hard to deny what's really in our soul. Working, living, socializing - making Florida home again was my mission. But it didn't feel like my purpose. It didn't speak to my soul. I was sitting at a red traffic light one hot and humid summer day in northern Florida contemplating my future. I'm a spiritual person so my thought went something like this: God I'm just not sure anymore about being in Florida, maybe I never was to begin with. I keep thinking about New York...not sure how it will all come together but I need your help. I need a sign. Should I stay in Florida or move to New York? God just give me a sign. I need to see it clearly. I sat there in my Ford Explorer nearly in tears praying and wondering what I should do. The cars turning off the subway made the left turn in front of me...before my light turned green, an old 80's-style Bronco passed in front of me and on the back window in white shoe polish were the words: Florida 2 New York. I smiled wide and big. Seeing those words provided me with a sense of relief. The mere fact of questioning what was in my heart, revealed the truth. Now, I've asked for signs before and didn't feel like I've gotten nearly the response. Maybe, I wasn't open to the possibilities or looking too hard. As soon as I could see the skyline of New York City, I knew I had arrived. I felt it deep in my soul - I'm home.

Courage

What is it that moves a guy from across the room to walk over to the woman he's just made eye contact with? Courage. What is it that propels one to climb to the top of the highest mountain? Courage. The cowardly lion in the Wizard of Oz growled it best - you gotta have courage. In the midst of all that is seemingly too difficult, the breaking point, or even frightful, courage steers us clear from any harm. The crossroads in life may appear cliche on the horizon, but it's inevitable - no doubt. I pride myself with following my heart, my passion, and my gut feeling. Getting there isn't easy, it takes a whole lot of courage. I'm somewhere between the frozen dessert aisle and the produce section. Teetering between what I desire and what I've always known. Complacency, fear, and doubt overshadow reason...knowing when to deviate from the norm is, well, is not "normal". Or whatever we consider the usual. Responsibility, bills, obligations - sifting through all the day-to-day and drilling down to what moves me is the excitement I crave. I've always said if I could sum up my life on a bumper sticker it would read: taking the scenic route. Courage resembles the swimmer diving into the deep end of the pool - you take a deep breath and take the plunge. My regret would be not having the courage to take the plunge. It's unfamiliar, scary and exciting all rolled into one. I'm at a crossroads and I'm relying on courage.