What Do You Want From Me?

THE NEXT MORNING, SMYTHE AWAKENED WITH A START. A LOUD BANG seemed to come from right outside her window. She held her breath; anxious someone attempted to force their way into her apartment. She listened for any sound of Artie in the next room, but heard nothing. No quiet footsteps, no click from a weapon. The apartment was at rest. Well, apart from the annoying click of her ceiling fan. She figured she should fix the part making that god-awful noise—or at least contact the maintenance department.

I wonder if Artie would even allow them in.

She rolled over to her side and glanced at the time displayed on her bedside clock. Occupied by the tic-tic-tic of her fan, a quiet thought began to surface and wreak havoc in her consciousness.

Something is off. Why in the world do I want a cigarette at this time of morning?

Smythe turned onto her back. The baker’s words created a quiet onslaught within her soul. “You will never be enough until you know you are enough.”

Two-thirty in the morning or not, she could take it no longer.

I need to breathe. I need to feel the cold air against my face. And I want a cigarette!

She rose silently, tiptoeing from her bed to close her bedroom door and twisting the knob on her bedside lamp. She let out a quiet sigh. Opening her closet door, she pulled a T-shirt, sweatshirt, and sweatpants from the dresser. She stared at her vest and cap for a time before placing them on the bed. She quietly dressed, putting the vest on under her sweatshirt and the cap on her head before tiptoeing out her bedroom door. Trying her best not to make a sound, she walked to the kitchen counter where her car keys and wallet lay. As she felt around for them in the dark, Artie shifted on the air mattress.

“Where are you going at this ungodly hour, Smythe?”

“I want a cigarette. I need to talk to my Beloved, and I need to do this alone, Artie.”

“Smythe—”

“Please, Artie. I need a cigarette and some coffee. I need just to breathe again.”

Artie could hear the angst in the tone in her client’s voice.

“You can be alone in your car Smythe, but my team and I will surround you. That’s the compromise.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Smythe whispered. “I need to be alone. I don’t want to endanger you or your teams any longer. It’s really early. I also don’t want the distraction of someone else, much less an entire team watching my every move.”

“We’re not watching you, Smythe. We’re watching your surroundings.” Artie yawned. “And you are not endangering our lives. It’s our job to protect you by any means necessary. We all understand the danger of what we do.”

Smythe turned on the light in the kitchen. To her surprise, Artie was sitting upright on her mattress. “Artie, I really need to clear my head. I think I need to drive to the mountains—watch the sunrise from there.”

A slight tinge of annoyance began to surface within Smythe. Is it too much to ask to simply watch a sunrise at the spur of the moment without such a production? God, how I miss doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted to!

Artie looked at Smythe, her eyes masking the confusion and anger rising within her heart. Finally, she pierced the silence. “I can be ready in about five minutes. I’ll alert my teams,” she groaned, starting to stand up. “Actually, make it 15 minutes. I need to make coffee for them.”

Artie alerted her teams and started a pot of coffee. “Don’t forget your vest and hat, Smythe.”

Still fuming, Smythe pointed to her head.

“Well done,” Artie mumbled. “And the vest?”

Smythe grit her teeth and lifted the bottom of her sweatshirt.

Once the coffee was made and distributed and her bed dismantled, Artie nodded to Smythe, who was now sitting on the sofa.

“Ready?” Smythe asked.

“After you.”

“Please, let me drive. It’s a lot to ask, I know. If you see something, I’ll stop. I just really need to be alone.”

“At least you’ve said please,” Artie smirked. “Smythe. This is a huge risk.” Artie watched her client for a moment. “Do you want to talk about what’s going on?”

“I can’t pinpoint it. I’m restless, scared, angry—just a bit of a mess. I need to get out of the city for a minute.”

There it is again, Artie thought. She could hear grief in Smythe’s voice. Something deeply troubled her client—something beyond the attempted murder. She pursed her lips. “I’ll allow it, but I will have one of my team vehicles in front of you and another behind you. We’ll take back roads to the mountain. There should be little traffic, if any. We’ll drive at your pace, but at the slightest sniff of trouble, I’ll need you to stop, duck your head, and wait for one us to get to you. Understand?”

“Ok. I understand. Thank you.”

“This is a risk, Smythe.”

“I know. I get it.”

Artie nodded. She outfitted Smythe with a tracking device and a com unit. Satisfied both were functioning properly, she escorted Smythe to her SUV before entering the Team 1’s vehicle.

“Boss, are you sure about this?” Dennis asked.

“No. No, I’m not. Do you have a tailing team ready?

“Yes. Today it’s Team 5. They’ll hang back about a mile.”

“Smythe, we’re all set. Let’s go.”

The caravan headed out through a winding road that led to the mountain range an hour away. Smythe drove in silence with her windows down, feeling the embrace of cold air as it swept across her face. She inhaled the smell of concrete and smiled. It reminded her of adventure. Her shoulders began to relax, her hands lightly holding the steering wheel as she began to hum. Surprised by her reaction, she realized she was outdoors, heading into nature. While she was never really fond of the great outdoors other than the ocean, the mere distance from the valley offered her a sense of freedom.

She continued to drive, her playlist playing softly in the background. She turned up the volume. The artist, Israel and the New Breed, quietly pierced her heart with the lyrics of “Take the Limits Off”. In many ways, it felt as if it were a theme song to her journey sung by her Beloved.

Ahead of her, the darkened sky held the splendor of the approaching mountain range. As traces of the mountain came into view, the lyrics ended. Smythe lifted her gaze, and a small aching tear traced down her cheek, dropping from her chin onto her sweatshirt.

The caravan arrived at the base of the mountain and paused long enough to receive direction from Smythe on the location of her destination. Without a car in sight either before or behind them, she proceeded up a two-lane highway, navigating the road carved into the side of the mountain. As she drove, she could begin to feel the rhythm of the road’s curvature. It held a melodic cadence, offering the traveler an opportunity to dance to the majesty of its unique song. Smythe took the hand of the mountain, allowing herself to dance to its gentle rhythm, arriving at her destination—a turnout that offered a spectacular view of the valley below. And they arrived just in time to witness the morning sun hinting at its upcoming arrival.

Smythe turned off her car and lit a cigarette. She found herself in reverent joy at the shimmering valley below, beholding the red and orange glint of the sun beginning to peer over the mountain ridge on the other side of the valley. She could see the bluish lights of the city twinkling below, even making out some of the major roads that cut the valley into quadrants.

Perfectly imperfect. We try so hard to march in a straight line. Geez, what a mess we’ve made. When will it stop? When will I stop?

She continued to watch the color of the sky change to brilliant shades of burnt orange, golden hues of yellow, and hints of cerulean blue breaking through the gray light sky.

I cannot be anything more than what I am. But what am I? Am I just deluding myself? I’ve stepped out onto this ledge because I believed that I have something to offer, but I’m beginning to wonder—again. Yet, here I sit, doing the exact things I’ve learned through my modules, and nothing has manifested in my life. Very few clients, no love in my life, the book is more daunting now than ever, and I’m still living in this fucking valley! And oh, let’s not forget the reason I have a security detail LIVING IN MY HOUSE!

Smythe looked up to the heavens.

“I have done everything—everything YOU have asked of me! And for what? I’m standing on this ledge, savings slowly dwindling, and everything I’m trying to manifest just sits there like a big fat blob! What do you want from me?!”

The sound of her voice echoed off the rock face of the mountain, and she sat motionless for some time, her anger pulsating through her temples. She glanced around before lighting another cigarette.

Artie sat in the passenger seat of Team 1’s vehicle. She squinted her eyes in the direction of Smythe, recognizing the angst. Although Artie had saved an enormous sum of money with several thousand more sitting in investments, she had plowed through nearly half of it in the first few months of her new business venture. She understood the frustration of being open for business and having no one knock on her door while watching her bank account dwindle to overwhelmingly uncomfortable levels. She understood the fear and the courage it took to keep plugging along in the face of unrelenting doubt. She also recognized the need to give yourself permission to pause for a moment and find your bearings. before doing the next thing that must be done—even in the face of bracing fear.

“C’mon Smythe, you got this,” she quietly encouraged.

Smythe faintly became aware of a word within her. “Patience.” She wanted to retort but held her tongue. She felt the presence of a deep abiding peace that emanated from an interior door of silence. It was a peace that beckoned her before her Beloved.

Through this door, she dragged out her thoughts and feelings and gently laid them before her Beloved. Closing her eyes, she slowly began to disengage from them and settled into meditation. Here, in this space, she felt a deep sense of belonging. It was where her creativity, her strength, and her compassion for herself and others lived. This space provided an expansion of her being in the here-now.

She inhaled a deep, slow breath, counting silently to the number four before releasing her breath to the count of eight. She repeated this several times, focusing on her breath to fully hear and feel her present moment—to feel the nature that surrounded her, breathing in peace and relaxation.

Over time, she became aware of her higher self observing the compulsive, anxiety-ridden thoughts of her ego. She held a deep sense she was existing beyond the rattling noise of the voice which echoed through the chambers of her soul. For a time, with deep compassion, she chose to listen to what it had to say, holding space for that voice and all of its concerns.

Her ego told her she was in pain. It was frightened; it did not want to go down the path she was leading anymore. That voice did not want to be patient, feeling it had been patient long enough and that it was high time she put things into motion. It also told her it was too late to be trying this experiment of a new self, and that she would fail. That voice held cynicism with its every thought.

She took in additional slow breaths and released them. As she observed her thoughts, she realized her ego’s voice was starkly different from her Beloved. There was an incompatibility of what her thoughts and accompanying feelings said to the quietness of her being-ness. She quickly became aware of a tension within her body.

She relaxed her shoulders, redirecting her focus to the energy she felt emanating within her hands rather than the onslaught of her ego, which, when given an inch, took a mile. Slowly, as she focused on the energy, her thought attacker faded into a whisper. She focused on her arms until, finally, she became aware that her whole body was alive with energy—her own electromagnetic field. Her ego had taken a silent backseat and the more conscious interdependence she felt with her Beloved began to emerge. Her Beloved whispered, “You are more than you imagine, and you have more to offer if you only would believe and release.”

In her connection with her Beloved, she was reminded she consciously made a choice to draw closer to love and expansion rather than hopelessness and despair. For her, this was a path she had willingly chosen so many months ago.

Smythe began to feel the discomfort creep through her body, and it was then she realized she was living in her discomfort zone. She remembered the school of thought that said we as humans will always find a way to remain comfortable. She understood that life. She also understood many others were living that life—a life lulled to sleep. Lulled asleep to the calling of their heart which all have been created for. She reasoned that this type of sleep kept people caged. Over time, and with constant lulling, it was possible to simply become accustomed to the cage. Yet, there is a time where someone is awakened—if it were only perceived as such.

Her Beloved reminded her of the deep core restlessness, and she realized the angst she felt was the alarm bell to awaken her to the life that lay before her. Her willingness to open the door and jump from the cage of comfort allowed her to learn where her creativity, compassion, and awe and wonder lived. She knew they lived—and would always live—outside her comfort zone.

Smythe finally understood she had to willingly be uncomfortable. She had to become uncomfortable facing her cultural programming, digging out the stories she was telling herself, facing her limiting beliefs, and then re-examine the lure of the story of the world and its various trappings.

As she rested in her Beloved, she realized that even her smoking was a type of energy to regain a sense of comfort. It was self-sabotage that threatened to delay, if not derail her sense of full expansion. It held and soothed hopelessness and despair, offering only a toxic temporary reprieve. Although it lit the way as a pointer to something that was off emotionally, she began to recognize she could no longer allow the energy of the tobacco to maintain its grip over her. In that moment of inspiration, she decided to begin a prescription given to her months ago that offered hope to reduce her desire to smoke. Smythe reasoned it would give her a fighting chance to quit.

The dawn continued to break into spectacular strands of orange, red, and golden hues. Smythe opened her eyes and watched the sky display its brilliance. As she continued to watch the majesty of the moment, she was struck by a completely different thought—a deep thought she had not allowed herself to ponder for years. A thought which came from her heart. She listened with interest and heard her heart say to her, I want a relationship outside friends and family.

An unsettling tension began to creep into her body. She remembered thinking after an amicable separation from her long-time partner several years ago that she was not “good” in relationships; that she didn’t have what it took to sustain a “forever” love of another. She stuffed any desire for romantic connection into the deepest recesses of her heart long ago.

Yet, here, in this moment, she heard her heart. Frustrated she had not reached out toward intimacy; to at least try again. She did not pretend to understand love; in fact, she thought of herself as a bit of a novice. Yet, for Smythe, there existed a deep longing to love another, to grow into a relationship, to have a real sense of belonging, and perhaps even to marry. It was this last thought of marriage that woke her up like a cold bucket of ice thrown over her head, drawing her quickly to the surface, away from the singing of her heart. Just as quickly as the thoughts had come, she discounted her heart and lit another cigarette.

Smythe continued to watch the colorful remnants of the rising sun. It had been a spectacular showcase, yet she sensed it was now time to go. She slowly turned her head toward the car that held Artie and Team 1. She snuffed out her cigarette and opened her car door. As she exited, a member of Team 1 quickly headed toward her. She walked slowly toward Artie’s vehicle, and then stopped. She scanned her emotions and began to feel light-headed. Her hands were beginning to perspire, and her breathing shallow. She wondered what it was that she was afraid of.

I can’t have the same sense of danger that Artie has.

She took in a breath and stepped to the passenger side of the vehicle. Artie opened the car door.

“Are you ready to leave?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Ok, we’ll caravan down. Once we’re down in the valley, is there anywhere you want to go?” Suddenly hungry, Artie was mildly hopeful for a swing by the baker’s shop. Smythe tensed her jaw and put her hands underneath the bottom of her sweatshirt.

Why the hell am I so nervous?!

“Well,” Smythe finally said, “I was wondering if you might consider driving back down in my car? I’m sure everyone is hungry. We could make a plan for breakfast before I need to get to the day’s work.”

Smiling brightly at Smythe, Artie replied, “Grabbing food is the first sensible thing you’ve said to me this morning.” She began to put one foot on the dirt pavement and then hesitated. “But I have a different request.”

“Let me guess, malasadas to eat and take home?” Smythe said, laughing.

It’s good to see her laughing, Artie thought.

“Well, yeah, there’s that, but in all seriousness, I need you in the backseat of this vehicle. I really dislike like you driving, especially after the last incident.”

There it is, Artie said to herself. Today will be Smythe’s final driving experience until after the trial. She observed Smythe and braced herself for the objection. The last thing Artie wanted was an argument that she was determined to win, even if it meant hurting Smythe’s feelings.

Looking down at the dirt and shuffling her foot around the gravel, Smythe glanced up at Artie.

“I can live with that. I knew it was coming, and I’m grateful you allowed me to drive this morning.”

Artie nodded and mouthed, “Ok.” She got out of her teams’ SUV and opened the back door for Smythe. Smythe gave her car keys to Artie, who then handed them to a member of Team 1.

“Retrieve her bag,” Artie said to the agent. She closed Smythe’s door and moved around the vehicle and joined her in the backseat. Dennis took the driver’s seat while his team member would be the bait centered between Teams 1 and 2.

Along their return journey to the valley, Artie and Smythe remained quiet, allowing a peaceful silence to sit contently between them. Finally, Artie poked the silence.

“I expected that you would have given me more grief about driving.”

“I had time to think about it. My insistence on driving has been foolish. Yet, here’s the thing. I need a lot of Beloved time, Artie. Before you and your team came along, I spent a significant amount of time alone so that I could be as centered as possible every day. I’ve been used to just taking off and finding my way to a place and spending time in meditation and prayer. The thought of losing that seemed unacceptable to me, and, honestly, I didn’t want to change that part of my routine. I wanted—no, I needed some modicum of freedom. For that, I’m not sorry. Yet, I am sorry for not communicating to you what I’ve needed. You’ve really done a great job trying to protect me. I’ve been unreasonably bullheaded and have made your job difficult.”

“Smythe, you can still have as much time as you need. You just need to tell me. Tell me what you need, and let me work up a plan. If what you want to do is too risky, I’ll let you know, and we can find a workable alternative—together.”

Smythe nodded and peered at Artie with a side-eye. She wasn’t used to expressing her needs or wants, much less having someone want to accommodate them as much as possible. Artie sat back and simply nodded in response.

That evening, Smythe noticed her ego berating her for not accomplishing more of the tasks she set out to do for the day. Sighing, she excused herself from Artie’s presence, wandering into the bathroom and closing the door. She looked into the mirror, deep into her own eyes, and the tears began to fall.

“Would you berate your best friend like this had she not completed her task list?” Smythe said out loud to herself.

No, of course not.

“Then why won’t you treat yourself with the same compassion and love that you would offer to Susan?”

For the first time, she recognized her first best friend had always been, and always would be, herself. Her epiphany opened a door of love and acceptance, settling lightly into her body. She apologized to her friend and offered, “You did a great job today. Y’all had a great breakfast! You accomplished what you needed to do. And with the knowledge skills and abilities available to you in the moments of the day, you did the best job that you could. I am proud of you, of who you are, and I love you.”