This great line from Ashely Poston’s recent novel, The Seven Year Slip, made me think that I probably lived in the same place my entire life (until a year ago) because I’ve never liked surprises. I relished the comfort of traversing the same roads my mother used to drive me to school and shopping in the same familiar stores. I loved bumping into friendly faces at those stores, people I knew from high school or college. So maybe you can find surprises in a place you live for your entire life, but you probably have to be open to finding them. I never was. Then again, maybe I have more of a love-hate relationship with surprises.

Surprise? ARGH!

If I say I like surprises, but only depending on the surprise, then I’m not really a “surprise” kind of person, right? I don’t like being the center of attention, so for those surprises, I’m a definite “no, thank you.” I do enjoy the surprise of new information—it’s one reason I read and have two graduate degrees I don’t use. I like learning. But I also unequivocally know what a, “I don’t like surprises” person looks like (my son and my husband) and I am not like them. They are planners and analyzers and think before you jump people. Not me at all.

The funny thing is, for someone who does not like surprises, my husband thinks I do. I’ll never forget sitting in the airport with my boyfriend in 1998 waiting to board a plane to New York. Smiling too much and fidgeting by my side, I thought he might propose. I wasn’t sure until we boarded the plane and he told me to go to our seats without him. He said he had to talk to the pilot. Um—Suspicious. And then as I settled in to read my book, he asked me three times if I was paying attention to the announcements. So, it didn’t surprise me when the captain said over the intercom, “the gentleman wearing the house of blues hat ins seat 13D would like to know if the lady in seat 13E would marry him.” That gentlemen got down on one knee. I said yes, everyone clapped and continued to congratulate us at baggage claim. It was perfect, but not surprising. He did surprise me with a 40^th birthday brunch. I didn’t love that—the thought yes, the surprise, no. I really don’t like to be the center of attention.

Heart Pounding Thrillers? No, thanks!

I also don’t like suspense movies or books. I don’t like rollercoasters. I hate when my stomach somersaults with nerves. When forced to watch scary movies, I read online what’s going to happen, so I can squash that anxious feeling. I’ll still watch, but I refuse to be surprised.

But now, as I’m aging, I’m finding surprises to revel in. I’m still writing this blog after almost five years. That surprises me. I’ve reinvented myself into a writer and I don’t hesitate when I tell people I’m an essay coach.

Unexpected Joy

And now that I live somewhere I have not lived my entire life, maybe I’m finding the surprises this great line refers to.

The other day, a driver on the other side of the road flashed his lights at me. I first thought it was a warning that police were nearby, but I was wrong. It was a warning that a sand hill crane was slowly crossing the road. That surprised me. And I liked it.  

I like the surprise of people waving to me as they drive by when I walk around the neighborhood.

I like the surprises I find on my walks—the rippling lakes, the swaying trees, the prancing deer, the shy bunnies and even the occasional alligator poking a head out of the water. It’s surprising that I’ve been walking consistently for five months!

I also really like exploring new groceries stores. Oh the surprising treats I find!

I know the point of the line in the book is to find wonder in something every day, even if that every day is the same house, the same job, the same people—that if you look for surprises, you will find them. I guess I never looked. Now, they’re everywhere and maybe I’ve become a person who embraces new things.

But please don’t throw me a surprise party for my next big birthday—I’ll take surprise tickets to see O.A.R. at Red Rocks. Thank you.

Thanks, Ashley Poston, this is one great line.

If you’d like to read more about The Seven Year Slip, click here.

If you’d like to read about me, click here.