Single Wide Female: The Bucket List Mega Bundle - 24 Books (Books #1-24) (76 page)

Then I saw it.

It was a long white shirt with pale purple embroidery on the sleeves. It had a deep neckline and a beautiful pleat to the material. It was the perfect shirt. As I walked up to it, I reminded myself that just because it looked large enough on the hanger that didn’t mean that it was actually going to fit me. I tended to get pretty disappointed when something looked the right size and then turned out to be far too small.

“Anything I can help you with?”

A man—really, he couldn’t have been much older than a boy—was arranging a rack of clothes by the front door. It always made me feel uncomfortable to feel like someone was watching me choose the clothes I would try on.

“Oh, no.” I shook my head. I started to feel very shy about picking up the shirt. As I stood there considering it, he walked up beside me.

“I think it’ll look gorgeous on you.” He smiled at me.

I looked at him with surprise. It meant a lot to me that he had perceived that I was uncomfortable and did his best to make sure that I was reassured.

“I’m not sure it will fit.” I frowned as I picked up the shirt.

“Only one way to find out.” He pointed out the dressing room.

I felt a little more at ease as I walked to the dressing room with the shirt. Just that one little bit of kindness he showed me had made a big difference in my shopping experience.

As usual the full-length mirror stared me down. I used to try to avoid them. Now I had learned to accept my body in whatever frame I was seeing it.

When I tried on the shirt I gritted my teeth, prepared for the disappointment that I might face if it did not fit me correctly. However, the shirt swept down easily over my body. In fact it was loose, just as I wanted it to be. I smiled proudly at my reflection. I took this as a good sign that the meditation class was going to turn out the way I wanted it to.

As I left the dressing room with the shirt folded under my arm, the clerk turned to smile at me.

“So?”

“I’ll take it.”

“Wonderful.”

I paid for the shirt and chatted with the clerk for a bit. I took one of the business cards for the boutique.

“I’ll be sure to tell my friends about this place.”

“Thanks.” He nodded at me as I walked out the door.

I was feeling pretty great as I headed back to my apartment. When I arrived home, I settled in front of my computer to type up a blog post about the class that I would be attending. I set the blue stone that I had purchased right beside my keyboard.

I stared at the stone for a long moment. I thought it was a little funny that I’d bought it. Inwardly I knew that it didn’t bring me any closer to Blue, but it was nice to have something that represented him near me. It made him feel more real to me.

As I wrote about connecting with myself through meditation, I thought about the strange way that Max had been acting that day. The way he talked made me a little worried that he was maturing to the point of actually falling in love with someone. While Max dated here and there he’d never really been serious about anyone. I wondered if I would be able to handle it if he was.

What would his girlfriend or wife think about our friendship? Would she make him stop talking to me? The very thought made my heart ache. It was then that I added another line to the post.

It’s time I spent a little time working on the one friendship I’ve spent many years neglecting. My friendship with myself.

And that was the truth, written boldly across the screen. Without Max, I would be alone. I needed to be prepared for that moment, as it wouldn’t be long before he was snatched up by some amazing woman.

If I were that woman, I would never let him go.

Chapter 4

The next morning I headed out for the meditation seminar. I was feeling pretty confident about my chances of accomplishing my goal. Meditation was easy. All it took was relaxing. It was going to be the simplest thing I ever checked off my bucket list.

As I walked up in my brand new shirt, with my natural version of make-up and my purse slung over my shoulder, I saw right away that I might stand out. The people wandering around the natural space weren’t the least bit concerned with one another. They were also dressed in what looked like handmade clothes.

One was perched on the top of a tall rock with her logs crossed and her face upturned toward the sky. All I could think was that I hoped she was wearing sunscreen.

The more I noticed the other people there, the more I began to feel that I was not going to fit in. These weren’t just people learning to meditate, these were people living an entirely different lifestyle.

I started to feel very anxious. There was even a large fountain featuring a waterfall and small reflection pool spotted with colorful fish. Everything breathed natural paradise, while I felt more like an impersonator.

While I was mulling the choice of whether to leave or not, a woman walked toward me. She appeared to be in her fifties and had a bright toothy smile. Giant turquoise earrings hung from her earlobes. Her clothes didn’t look to be handmade, but she was wearing what looked like a large dream catcher as a necklace.

“Hello there. Are you here for the seminar?”

“Yes.” I glanced over at the others and then looked back at her. “I think.”

“My name is WindStar and I’d like to welcome you to your spiritual journey.”

I stared at her for a moment. I was fairly certain that her name was not actually WindStar. I also didn’t expect to actually be on a spiritual journey. I started to feel very skeptical of what I’d walked into.

“Thanks. I’m Samantha.” I held my hand out to her.

She ignored the hand I offered and wrapped me up in a warm hug instead. At first I was put off that a stranger was touching me, but I had to admit that she was a great hugger. I found myself hugging her right back.

“I’ll take you to your meditation spot.” WindStar smiled.

“Wait, isn’t there a class or something?”

“Meditation is a very individual and private experience. There are some groups that do meditate together, but I tend to think it’s best to let newcomers spend a little time getting into meditation on their own.”

As I followed behind her I wondered what I had signed up for. I was actually a little relieved to not be forced into awkward get-to-know-you introductions. But still, how was I supposed to check meditation off my list if I didn’t get some instructions?

“How will I know that I’ve actually done it?”

“Trust me, you’ll know.”

I clutched my beaded necklace and pulled my blue gemstone out of my purse. “I brought these to help.”

“What are those things for?” WindStar asked. She led me up a hill toward a small wooden pagoda.

“Oh I just thought they might help me with meditation. You know—to clear my mind.”

WindStar smiled at me patiently. I felt a bit like a child that was coloring outside of the lines.

“It might be good for you to think of meditation as something that is not done, but allowed.” WindStar paused beside the pagoda. “You see, I believe that our bodies yearn to fall into this natural relaxed state; however, our environment—our mental chatter and our emotional state—prevents it from happening. So, it’s not something that you really learn to do, in my opinion, but something that you learn to allow.”

“That’s interesting. I’ve never thought about it that way.”

“Well, we’re trained into linear thinking by the society we are surrounded by. But meditation doesn’t really have a direction, or a timeline. It’s expansive and all-encompassing. So it’s a little strange at first to engage in it.” WindStar gestured to the pagoda. “We’ve tried to create a place where people can begin to let go of that mold society has created around our minds. Here we have incorporated a little bit of structure with a whole lot of nature, so that the transition isn’t quite so shocking.”

Inside the pagoda there were fluffy cushions, as well as an assortment of bottled drinks on ice. There was also a small radio and a sand maze with a little rake to use.

“We’ve provided an assortment of items that are designed to help you relax.” WindStar pointed to the radio. “There are a few relaxation CDs beside the radio. The thing to remember is that there is no one way to meditate. It’s really about getting to know your own individual path to peace. Some people like to walk to get into that meditative state. Others require complete silence. Some prefer having a candle to gaze into. It’s up to you to figure out your relaxation language.”

“I like that.” I smiled. “I think that’s a good perspective.”

“Great, then I’m sure you’re eager to get started.” WindStar stepped out of the pagoda. “I’ll leave you to it.”

As I watched her walk away, I felt a little abandoned. How was I supposed to handle meditating all alone? Again it ran through my mind that I might just be wasting my time. In my head, I’d envisioned a group chanting and growing together.

Instead, I’d been shuffled off to my own space.

Chapter 5

I sighed and set the blue stone down in front of me. I smiled to myself as I thought about the witty exchange that would be taking place if Blue was actually there with me. I closed my eyes and pictured him sitting across from me for a moment. That was hard to do, since I had no idea what he looked like. Even without a face to visualize, I could feel him there. He would probably make any excuse so that he could to sit next to me. Then I would very casually shift even closer to him.

Sammy!
I caught myself before my meditation time turned into a different kind of fantasy. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the act of meditation. Of course it might have helped if I’d some training on the act of meditation. I didn’t feel very prepared, but I was willing to give it a try.

As I closed my eyes I thought of peaceful things. I thought of babbling brooks. I thought of a puppy running through tall grass. I thought of dandelion tufts blowing away in the wind.

Then I thought about the latest scene that I was working on in my new series—the B.I.G. Girls Club. I began rewriting some of the scene in my head.

That reminded me that I needed to clean my computer screen, which reminded me that I needed to get paper towels—even though Max told me that I really shouldn’t use paper towels to clean the screen, but what did he know, really? He was always telling me what to do when it came to technology. I didn’t have to do things his way. I’d always used paper towels, but then, maybe that was why my computer screen was so streaky, which might be why I thought it was dirty, which distracted me from writing, which was why I hadn’t finished the scene yet that I started rewriting in my head again.

Suddenly I realized that I wasn’t meditating at all.

I was writing, making a shopping list, cleaning, and having a one-sided argument with Max in which he still managed to end up being right. I sighed with frustration. I really wasn’t doing well with the whole meditating thing.

I tried to clear my mind by taking a deep breath. It usually worked to help calm my nerves. However, I wasn’t usually outside in the middle of nature when I did it. So there wasn’t usually a gnat flying right by my nostril at the exact moment that I took the deepest breath through my nose that I could.

I sucked the gnat right up into my nostril, where it promptly made me gag. I opened my mouth in reaction to the gnat’s being in my nose and gulped one down into my throat. I hacked and coughed as I tried to get the bugs out of my mouth and nose.

By the time I was able to stop coughing, I was covered in sweat and ready to pass out rather than meditate. I greedily breathed in bug-free air.

Briefly I worried that the gnat might have laid eggs in my lungs, but I pushed that stressful thought out of my head.

Only then did I realize that I’d probably just disrupted every single person who was trying to meditate.

I stuck my head out through the door of the pagoda. The woman I had seen earlier was still perched on top of her rock. She looked as serene as ever. No one else seemed to have noticed either. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It certainly saved me some embarrassment, but it also left me wondering if anyone would come to my rescue if I’d actually been choking to death.

I shook my head and sat back down. Once I was cross-legged again I tried to clear my thoughts. It was difficult, as I was a little paranoid about gnats.

I remembered when I had been forced to go to camp as a young girl. I didn’t mind nature too much, but I did despise bugs. The very thought of something crawling across my skin was just too much to take.

The more I thought about how much I didn’t like bugs crawling across my skin, the more it felt as if there might be bugs crawling across my skin. I shuddered and wiped at my arms very quickly. There didn’t seem to be any bugs, but just thinking about them was enough to creep me out.

I took another deep breath, but shielded my nostrils with my hand. Then I tried to envision a rainbow. A beautiful peaceful rainbow stretched across a calm sky. The more I thought about the rainbow, the more I wanted one of those rainbow snow cones with the multicolored sugar syrup.

It had been a really long time since I’d had one of those. They were so good on summer days. I loved the way the shaved ice melted on my tongue. It was one of the many treats that I had eliminated when I started my weight loss journey. As I continued to fantasize about snow cones, I realized I had gotten completely off the path to meditation again. I sighed and opened my eyes.

Finally I decided to try using one of the CDs to help quiet my mind. Maybe the background music would allow me to be calm. I leaned over to the radio and looked through the CDs. I found one that looked interesting. It was called
Song of the Whales
. What could be better for meditation than the natural beauty of a large creature singing? I put in the CD and turned on the radio. Then with a smile of peaceful anticipation I pressed the play button.

Chapter 6

I was immediately bombarded with the loudest whale songs I’d ever heard. Whoever had used the radio last had obviously left the volume turned all the way up. As I hurried to turn it down I couldn’t find the right knob. All of the knobs I twisted only made things worse by making the whale sounds more high-pitched or deeper. I looked for a plug to pull and then realized that I was outside where there were no plugs. The CD player had to be running on batteries. The whale sounds sounded more like a massacre than a peaceful aid.