There’s an old Jimmy Buffett song I just love, “When the Coast is Clear.” (He recently remade it for the Gulf Coast in the wake of the BP spill, so finding the original to link here has been tough.) It’s a personal song to me, because I know exactly how he feels. I am not a “beach in the summer” kind of girl. I love to go when the touristy places are closed and the beaches are all but empty, when I can step out onto the sand at 7:30 in the morning and see no one but perhaps a lone fisherman a quarter mile down the way. It’s like I can breathe deeper. I can put my back to the world, my face out to sea, and sort of witness what God meant for it to be. It’s comforting to know that no matter who wins the presidential election or how high gas prices go or what the stock market does, the ocean will never stop meeting the sand. It’s a great reminder that God is always in charge.
There’s a line in the song that says, “Hello, Mr. Other Me. It’s been a long, long time.” Oh, don’t I get that. On the edge of the ocean, I become the better part of who I am. The real me bubbles up to the surface, because there’s no distraction. There’s nothing to clean, nothing to work on, nothing to say. Yes, there are times (as I mentioned last Monday), when God and I have some heart to hearts, but those talks are born out of the purest parts of myself.
I like that. But it got me to wondering… why is it my “Other Me” doesn’t come out to play more? Why do I let myself get so wrapped up in work and schedules and the like that I forget to let “me” run free? Hm. Something to think about in my newly formed quiet times, I guess.
Funny thing is, I was a part of a field trip with 23 eighth graders last week. We went to Charleston. Oddly enough, “Other Me” showed up wide open on that trip, and I had a blast. Why? Maybe the routine we live in gets us stuck. Maybe it’s good to see other places. Maybe God knows sometimes we need to step out of our comfort zones. Who knows? I just know I like “Other Me.” It’s about time I made her the “Everyday Me,” don’t you think?
So how about you? Where does your “Other Me” live?