The Circus Monkey

I've decided to lay off dating for awhile and instead go out with myself - to fun places, doing things I enjoy, or just hanging around and getting acquainted with who I am.

My friend, Eustacia, says she loves her own company. I can't say the same is true for me, which makes you wonder how I can expect anyone else to take a shine to me if I don't. I've put in a lot of years telling myself I'm not enough or conversely, that I'm too much, years of performing like a circus monkey in hopes of setting things right. Finally, I'm beginning to think there isn't any "right" out there. It's only "right" right here, now, where I am.

My son is with his dad this weekend which means I'm on my own. I have a loose plan to meet an acquaintance for coffee, but otherwise the next 36 hours our mine to shape any way I please.

There's a morning yoga class in Millennium Park that I could attend or later near the lake, there's an outdoor jitterbug class accompanied by live music. I have a long line up of magazine queries that need finishing and if I throw the windows open wide, I'll feel the fresh breeze as I write. Later I could bike to Whole Foods for fresh salmon, and then this evening teach myself how to grill.

All of the above sounds lovely. In fact, if I heard that someone else was spending their Saturday this way, I'd be downright envious. But it's not someone else. It's me. And I just have to remember that I'm the lucky one who gets to be with myself.

Sweet Potato Vine

I've been on hiatus, taking a little respite. This searching business can get exhausting.

My friend, Eustacia, is more harsh. She calls it futile. She doesn't believe you can look for love. It comes looking for you and the trick, she says, is to be ready for it.

Even though I don't agree, I've been devoting these last few weeks to doing a good spring-cleaning. I fixed the fridge, got a new garbage disposal, planted impatience and sweet potato vines in the flower boxes on the balcony.

My closet witnessed a ruthless makeover with any item that didn't sing tossed into the Goodwill bag. My hairdresser gave me long bangs, then I went and got a pedicure.

Meanwhile, I've been weeding my social garden. It was long overgrown and seriously needed a thinning out, but instead of using a back hoe, a hand spade might have been a wiser choice. Or at least a less drastic one. From a dozen calls a day from friends, I'm now lucky if I get one.

But instead of feeling sorry for myself, I've decided to pretend as if I'd just moved in. As the stranger in town, I'd try all kinds of new things, be open to all kinds of new people. I'd be patient with myself and when come evening, I found myself on on my own, I wouldn't think, 'what's wrong with me?' but place my bets on change and maybe just for fun toss purple pansies into the dinner salad.