Happy Friday Mantown,

Just Another Blond Girl here reporting on the ups and downs of living in paradise…

So a little bit about me:

I am a blond girl living in paradise.

Wait – I’m a single, blond girl living in paradise.

Um, best to add I’m a single, blond yoga teacher living in paradise.

Ok, Last try – I am a single, blond, surfing yoga teacher, in her mid-thirties living in paradise.

Yes, that pretty much sums me up.

Today I shall share my insights on one of the most confusing human tribulations –

Expectations.

They are the ‘ball breakers’ of potential connection…

Yesterday I started to feel quite sick. I couldn’t tell if it was the beginning of actual physical illness or another typical ‘bubble boy’ episode where the energy of my life and brain drains me so much that my body shuts down anyways. Sometimes, it’s not very easy being a hyper-sensitive blond girl…

I decided that after teaching my morning yoga class that a potential shut-down was in the cards. I looked guilt in the eye and chose to ignore her for the rest of the day. I went home, crawled into bed and slept the afternoon warmth away.

Waking up this morning my body was weak and my mind felt even more helpless.

Over-analysis had sucked me dry. I had nothing left to give. Especially at work.

A sick day it is!

Despite the recognition of my empty petrol tank, I accepted my friends invitation to surf. It felt like an odd and slightly irresponsible decision – not only because I was actually feeling like death but also, living in this small beachside town, surfing whilst pulling off a sick day isn’t the most highly recommended professional choice.

Alas, I chose it anyways (Classic blond girl move!)

I admitted the defeat of my muscles and committed to nothing more than a ‘bob’ in the glassy morning waves. I thought, my ocean can’t do me any harm, she is the greatest healer of them all…and so we jumped in and I lazily threw my arms around, barely resembling a paddle stroke and we managed to glide out beyond the surf break.

To my absolute absolute surprise I had one of the best surfs of my life. I couldn’t believe it!

I managed to jump on and ride at least ten waves in a row – there weren’t any of the typical grunts and swear words and humbling laughter. The ocean and I were one today – she told me where to be at the right time and I listened. I jumped on her back and she guided me into shore. And then I did it again, and again and again.

Surfing is so funny. It says so much about my state of mind. I can think that I am in a good place and then Mother Ocean quickly shows me the truth.

On any given day I can walk down the street, board in hand feeling sexy and confident and strong and leave the surf a mere hour later feeling immature, humiliated and broken.

The only truth I have deciphered is that when I don’t care, when I let go, when I am chatting about yoga and boys and engaged in something other than ‘trying’ to surf really well, then I actually am able to surf really well.

When I leap into the water having meditated and visualised my pop-ups and feel myself glide along a wave in advance and pump myself up to take on the green room with style and class, I am usually a giant piece of flailing shit.

I mean it – absolute crap!

So what does this mean? Where do all of my tried and true practices leave me now?

After spending twelve years as a high performance athlete, practicing positive visualisation and mental preparations and manifestation techniques from my buddy Wayne Dyer and years of Intuitive counselling and yoga teaching – where does this fit in?

I think life is simpler that I make it at times. I think that everything ‘I think’ to be fact is actually a load of you know what.

I am pretty sure when effort, desire and attachment precede the actual manifestation in reality than it is quite unlikely to unfold in that exact desired manner.

I’m not saying that manifestation is ineffective – of course there is a place for it. I think, however, the way I have been trying to manifest has been ineffective.

So where do I go from here? Do I have to drop everything I’ve ever learnt about life?

What if everything I believe to be true about achieving happiness and success is actually getting in my way?

What if I am actually wrong about it all?

What if I don’t have to do anything?

What if, in the words of one of my wisest friends, “What is mine, I can’t miss out on?”

What if I were to trust life? What if I were to trust myself?

So where Manly does this leave us thirty-something yoga teaching, surfing blond girls? Where do we go from here?

Do we wake up in the morning and continue to try to do the right thing all day long or do we just stop trying at all?

What if we all stopped trying so hard together and just starting being together?

Maybe, one day I can stop the over-analysis and grand fairytales created within the most creative corners of my mind and instead stand on the street and look into the eyes of the people walking by.

What if I could modernise the last scene of Breakfast at Tiffany’s where the ‘Cat’ is thrown out into the rain and Fred confesses his mad love for her, whilst calling her out not on fearing being put in a cage but fearing letting herself out of the cage of her own making?

What if I opened the door to my cage and crawled out? What if I no longer spent any of my energy and time trying to deduct the perfect boyfriend in my head and instead started talking to the beautiful men walking around me every single day?

What if I actually asked one of them out on a date? What if we actually spoke the truth to each other about how we felt and laughed and shared and even if we didn’t find each other attractive and even if we don’t fall madly in love, we had a fulfilling evening together – Connecting. Laughing. Being?

After sleeping all day in self-indulgence maybe my energetic flu is entirely of my own making and I can release myself from my weak immunity anytime I choose?

Maybe I shall.

Maybe I’m finally ready to look you in the eye and love you for real. Not the bedtime story of you that I have created on my mediation cushion but the actual you who I finally allow myself to get to know and see for real, just like I so desperately desire for you to see me too.

Maybe?

Good Night Mantown. Good Night Moon. Good Night Cat. Goodnight Spoon.

xx