Ha. If only they knew, I thought with a smile. Sure, the town I now call my home is quite a bit more rural than here, no traffic lights as opposed to one blinking one, one place for coffee rather than two- and dirt roads are a bit more the norm in Jasper than Youngstown. But they are both little dots that rarely show up on anything but a county map, and that’s fine by me- they’re both my kinda place.
I’m excited to hopefully have a new address for where I’ve been living with my love for the last month- that way I can surprise my grandmother when she asks, “And just where am I sending your birthday card this year?”
She’s hardly phased when it changes or remains the same. She’s used to my pattern-less pattern of life. Hey, no one gets to live this life as I do, who needs a pattern?
I continue to pick my way down the path, that slowly opens to a sandy cliff over a small beach beside Four Mile Creek’s outlet into Lake Ontario. Time to lose the shoes- truly if I could walk my whole life barefoot I would, and often do, skating just on this side of inappropriate settings for no shoes. I’d rather serve myself barefoot than not feel the earth beneath my feet and fit in to places where shoes are a prerequisite.
Fitting in. Places. I chuckle inwardly at the images and memories that float through my head. I can’t say I’ve always felt I fit in well in new places, but that’s never stopped me from finding them.
There was a time I was new to these shores that I now sink my toes into, an awkward girl of twenty-one, with the wit of a witch but the street smarts of a toddler, never mind lacking the experiences most girls get through middle and high school. I awkward-ed through those years, still somehow attracting kindred spirits, but never quite feeling “my place” in any of it.
Then one day, while playing the wallflower desperately desiring to be a diva, I realized something. I could be a shy, invisible person for the rest of my days, or just- you know- try something new. The only failure is never trying, right? So I started just talking to someone- anyone- then everyone. Finding I could make a tired mother laugh, or an old man smile, was one of my greatest realizations in this life. Most of the world is looking for a place to call theirs, and if my presence is where they find it, I’m happy to share moments of love.
Since then I’ve led a squiggle line through life- often jumping off of just-peaking careers or opportunities to tackle a new one. Just settling into a place others thought would be “just perfect” and then venturing out into new unknowns. Call me crazy but you don’t always just quit when you fail, sometimes you see a higher peak from the peak you just climbed that you would have never known about had you never stepped foot to the first one.
I don't regret any peak, place, or face I’ve encountered on my journey, and I’m fortunate to be able to return to most of them such as this little inlet on the lake and feel right at home.
It’s not so much about leaving one thing for another, but adding to the places I can call my place in this life. Everywhere I go is my place, I just have to open my arms first to grasp it.
I have since encountered so many people who tell me they feel out of place in life, and how do I manage my way?
I have no magic answer; I’m currentlyin a new place where I’m known as “city girl” and someone’s girlfriend, but I know I’m slowly becoming known as neighbor, friend, family- Bonnie. It’s a daily choice to fade into the wall or walk right into the center of the dance floor and recognize that everyone just wants a turn to dance with someone who can smile into their face and say, “I see this is your place too, glad to be a part.”
So my place is actually many other people’s places; it was theirs before, others will come after me and join in place. This beach is someone else’s special barefoot cove, and I’m happy to make my place among others who can find room in their hearts for a wayward soul such as mine. 
