On Tuesday, I was on my usual morning walk with my initiative to get outside moving every morning to prepare myself for the day. Once I reached the street indicating my turn around marker, I noticed a lady standing by something large and brown in the street. It was strange….was it road kill?….why was she standing there?? I was deep in thought and turned my attention back to my playlist and saw her waving at me to get my attention. I looked around–was she talking to me? Waving back and smiling didn’t seem to satisfy her, so I removed my earbuds and asked her what’s up? She said, “It’s a giant turtle!” and resumed taking pictures of it. Okay……

I walked over as now my interest is piqued–the side road can be a bit treacherous because of the curves and the hills. There’s a flashing sign for pedestrian crossings which would rival any dance floor in Vegas with its pulsing white lights–it’s that kind of street. And poor turtle—he’s going to get flattened by an unsuspecting driver. We need to save it!, I called to her as I was waiting for the cars to let me cross to the other side. She looked a bit panicked and said she had a friend try to save a turtle once and the turtle tried to bite him. Not to shrink away from a challenge, I continued up the sidewalk until I saw a gigantic, prehistoric looking snapper turtle (Chelydra serpentina) (just showing off my google skills, here)… and y’all….I mean gi-gan-tic….

Being the Country Girl Can Survive kind of gal I am, I wasn’t going to let a bit of fear keep me from saving the day for Old Man Turtle and whatever driver ends up cruising deep in thought along Old Ivy Rd before they suddenly blow a tire or crack their front grill on this enormous, shelled reptile sunning in the middle of the road. I told her, I think he’ll just pull back into his shell….. and went to find a stick to annoy him into retreating inside his shell so I can handle him. Or at least that’s what I thought would happen….

So I tap tap tapped the stick on top of his shell and good golley almighty that thang lunged at me so quickly snapping his jaws at me–like he moved a good six inches towards me. I jumped back and reconsidered my position. Cars are now stopped on the road watching, and here I am tap tap tapping again on his shell–only now in a better position behind him and he starts to move thankfully back towards the sidewalk and the woods next to it. I wondered how in the world I’m going to get him up the curb without him enjoying a gigantic bite outta my sweaty flesh. And then–just like that–he put a giant turtle foot on top of the curb and he launched himself up in one jump to where most of his body is now on the curb. His prehistoric back feet pushed him onto the sidewalk and into the woods as I keep annoying him with my taps and vocal encouragement to keep going–back into the woods Mr. Turtle. Who knew a turtle could jump? I was impressed–and a bit scared. The picture-taking lady laughed and said Good Job. I wonder if Mr. Turtle thought the same thing. I think he was thinking I spoiled all his fun.

As I pondered my adventure in Turtle Rescue, I started thinking about that ole turtle–of how he ended in on that winding road. What did he think when all those cars were swerving around him at the last minute? I saw one car go around him, and Turtle didn’t even flinch–it was like he was saying, y’all–I’m fine–I’m FINE. Oh how often we’ve been there. How often *I’ve* been there. It’s fine—I’m fine–totally clueless to the potential consequences from my unintentional living.

I mean thankfully–there was this lady who started taking pictures…who then alerted another person (me!) of the situation (more in a voyeuristic way than an actual “let’s save the turtle” way…but she was there)…. and the Messenger of Danger all dressed in RedFlag tries to clue the Turtle in on the situation. Turtle is having none of it. He’s fine. The cars are going around him, life is good…there’s no downside to being in the road to the turtle’s perspective–it’s good–until it’s not. He wasn’t where he was supposed to be, but he missed it–he had no idea of the danger he was in.

How many times do we justify our situation saying, I’m fine to those around us? How many times do we dismiss the signs indicating we should change course because we justify the situation and say we’ve got it under control: That third margarita, the guy who acts a bit disrespectful at times, that new client who doesn’t align with our business goals and boundaries, but proclaims they will be a good referral source for us… How many times do we tell ourselves we are fine as evidenced by how good things are going at the moment….even though crimson flags are flying at full mast all around us.

How do we get there? How did Mr. Turtle get there? Was he on a walk, looking for dinner, chasing a female turtle, annoyed at Mrs. Turtle and needed a change of scenery??? Have you ever had a time where you Wake Up and look around you and ask yourself How did I get here? How did I get into this situation with a client where I arranged something I don’t usually handle because it’s a quick, easy thing…. and then spend hours fixing something I don’t usually do, spending time, resources and even money on something I wasn’t supposed to handle in the first place? How do we end up with a partner who seemed like Prince Charming and is suddenly your nemesis–thwarting you at every turn? How do we end up tired, lonely, overworked, and a hot, hot mess? Perhaps we weren’t intentional–didn’t look for the signs–didn’t listen to those whispers telling you to pay attention and for goodness sakes, Becky, don’t step off that curb into the road where you are going to be punted by a Mini Cooper driven by a soccer mom late for afternoon pickup….

How do we miss it? We’re busy, that’s how. We’re busy with our distractions and reactions that we miss all the cues. We have no perimeter boundaries in our lives, so we miss the alarms when someone crosses–alarms which shout, Danger Will Robinson–Danger! Our alarms are in silent mode. Why?

Why is it that third margarita seems like *the* best idea ever….until the next day when we swear on our best cashmere sweater we are never doing that again….until we do. So many of the decisions Drunk Becky makes wreak havoc on sober Becky’s next day itinerary. Drunkeness: a state where alcohol affects your judgment. And I’m not just talking about being drunk on champagne….I think you can be drunk on other things–things which affect our judgement:

• Drunk on Power – the ability to control someone else – the ability to make them happy – taking care of everyone else because you feel powerless in your own skin.
• Drunk on Distraction – using outside things to distract us from living intentionally: Mindless scrolling, Shopping, a sleeve of oreos, a tube of Pringles, binging Nexflix–those things we do to avoid sitting in an uncomfortable situation and keeping us from taking inventory of where we are and where we want to be.
• Drunk on Fear – the scarcity mentality. What if I turn down this client and never have another new client again this month? What if I don’t give that family member money or loan them my car even though I need it? What if I don’t answer that call? What if they realize I’m not as confident as I seem on the outside? What if they knew my whole story–would they still like me?
• Drunk on Love–or the feeling of love–getting swept up in the gloriousness that a person is paying attention to you–so swept up you miss the signs…you hear their sweet words, but don’t reconcile them with their inconsistent actions–you’re drunk in love, and not in a good way….

Drunk Becky doesn’t make good decisions and it doesn’t matter if she’s drunk on Chablis, drunk on controlling everyone around her, drunk on the fear of not meeting expectations, drunk on the feeling of being wanted and chasing that love buzz all the way to her demise. She doesn’t make good decisions when her judgment is clouded… that’s a fact.

Being drunk distracts us–isn’t that why we like it? It distracts us from our intentions, our boundaries, and our goals. Sometimes a distraction can be a very, very good thing, but living in a world of distraction as a coping mechanism is another thing entirely.

I am sure that turtle is cussing me to his turtle gang down at the Pond. He was not happy I interrupted his meandering–because he was fine! How many times have I not accepted feedback or dismissed questions from my friends in situations where I think I’ve got it all covered. Those cars will go around me–I’m not going to get hurt. I am totally fine.

Don’t be drunk like Mr. Turtle. Don’t settle for fine. Be intentional. Be fabulous!

Cheers y’all!

Next: Enough and Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby