Journal of a Soul Searcher Excerpt

7/23/2019 Journal of a Soul Searcher Excerpt

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Journal of a Soul Searcher/ Emma Mildon

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Emma Mildon

[email protected]

Journal of a Soul Searcher

By Emma MildonComputer Word Count:

50,000

Edited by Julie ClaytonEditor ofall of Mike Dooleys books, including theNew York

Times bestseller,Infinite Possibilities (as featured in The Secret), numerous Nautilus

Award winners and Amazon Top 5 Winners.
mailto:[email protected]:[email protected]://www.emmamildon.com/http://www.emmamildon.com/http://www.emmamildon.com/mailto:[email protected]


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A book dedicated to Sarah from Canada, Lucy from Hawaii, Charlotte from Spain,

and Sophie from the Sea

Women who have added to my life and my travels.

They say you never truly know someone until you have traveled with them

even yourself.


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Introduction

You know in ninja films how all the bad guys surround you and then take turns at kicking the

bejesus out of you one by one? I wish life was so polite and that everyone took their turn to

throw negativity at you. I guess thats why I spend a lot of my time on the move these days

so Im not around people long enough for them to surround me. I guess you could say Im a

drifter.

I like traveling, it makes me feel like Im invincible, in a dreamnothing can hurt me

because nothing seems real. Deep down I wanted to be settled, have a homebut I just

needed to find where in the world that place was. Thats why I wanted to pack my bags, spin

the globe, and leave my world as I knew it behind me in the first place. I was living in a

nightmare!

My mother never understood why I was always so super-sensitive about everything. I was

emotionally open like a newspaperopened up, read, torn, discarded, or used to line the kitty

litter tray. My mother always told me, Sophie youre too dramatic. You watch too much

reality tv!

I dont think Im dramatic at all. I think Im just aware of how people can be news one day,

and nobody the next. I think because I seek change it scares herand she labels it dramatic. I

think shes scared Im going to keep traveling and never come home. Maybe shes right.

People also say I think too much. People like my mother and best friend Fiona. I just dont

know how to turn off thoughts, and the annoying thing is they usually come spilling out my

mouth at a million miles an hourbut hey, who am I to stop the truth, right? Some people

need a few vodkas in them before the truth seeps out of them but not me; I must have Russian

genes. I guess thats another reason why I stay at arms reach from people. I am so good at

saying things that are offensive without even realizing it.

That is the great thing about traveling and culture barriersthe people I meet on my journey

have enough trouble understanding my English, let alone my morbid matter-of-fact sense of

humor. If they did manage to decode and crack my brutally honest jokes they would probably

laugh along with me, assuming I was being sarcastic. I think the Spanish are the best to joke

with, they are the most raw, rude, mocking group of charactersit must be rooted in their

playful gypsy ethos.


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Maybe Im a modern day gypsy. I have my whole life scrunched up in a backpack; I only

own and wear daisy duke torn denim shorts, bikini tops (no bras), and am always wearing

some sort of tie-dye, blonde hair in braids, grass weave anklet getup. The two most important

things I own are a surfboard and my journal. I should be feeling liberated traveling so light,

without a care in the world, but instead my emotional baggage is weighing me down.

My journal holds the truths of my journey. The reason I left my world behind me, my search

for a new world, and my struggle to find my place in it.


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~1~

Dear Journal,

I remember when you caught my eye. I peered at you through a bookshelf and did a double-

take before walking down the aisle toward you. Something drew me to you, almost as though

I knew you were the one. I looked at you and said to myself,youre coming home with me.

You were a journal that stood out from the rest, a journal that would keep my story of soul

searching nestled lovingly in your pages.

I remember picking you up and rubbing my hand over your imitation leather exterior, your

colours reminding me of a Buddhist robe of bright red and yellowyou oozed inspiration in

a peaceful sort of way.

From that day on you were always in my handbag or jean shorts back pocket. You became

part of my body, like a ring from a dead grandma or a cell phone to a textaholicyou were

my treasure.

The first time I wrote in you I was even worried you would judge mecan you imagine?After all, you were nothing more than blank pieces of paper bound together with glue! But

there is something so permanent about putting thoughts onto paper. The truth can bellow like

an enraged bull when you write it down and its staring back at you, ready to charge into your

life.

I decided I wasnt going to write to you as if I were reporting the news. News reports are for

strangers. I would to write to you as a friend. As though you were my guardian angel, my

cosmic team, my soul sisterlistening to my every word. And so I began to share my life

with you


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Hola Journal,

Thats hello in Spanishnot that many folk here in this small town of Karitane, New

Zealand know what the hell hola means. Karatane is quite possibly one of the most boring

small farm towns in the world. If I said hola to someone they would probably reply with,

gesundhelt, dear.

Dont get me wrong, New Zealand is beautiful, safe, green, and lush. But its all I know, and I

want to know more. I want to be in a room where I dont understand a word of what anyone is

saying, where no one knows me, where I can be reborn! I want to take a million photos of new

things, new customs, cultures, and costumes. I want to look around me and think if only

people could see through my eyes right now. Today I am only daydreaming about new lands

trying new foods, and cutting out photos of exotic places. Tomorrow I will be there!

I was at the local supermarket today in the International food aisle and bumped into old Mrs.

Harper. A bitter woman who has lived here in Karatane forevershe wears the same knitted

hats she handmade back in the 60s; I swear she smells like dust and peppermint! Anyway, she

saw me reading the ingredients on a taco sauce packet and asked me, What is a taco?! I

mean seriouslya taco? You could say the taco was a turning point for me.

As I pushed my cart to the checkout I took a good look around me. Not a thing in that

supermarket had changed since I was a little girl. The same checkout ladies were still

gossiping like hens, with a few more grey hairs on their heads and a handful of crows feet

laugh linesand there was Carl, the same old janitor who walks around the aisles dragging a

dirty damp mop behind him. Yup, the only change in this town was age. Come to think of it,

why do they even have an International foods section? I have never seen anyone else buyanything out of that aisle. These small town New Zealanders like toast, cereal, meat, and

veggies.

My best friend Fiona and I have always been in sync.Fi and I have known each other since

we were toothless, piggy-tailed kindergarteners. We started school on the same day and we

were both petrified from being thrust into a strange place. The teacher introduced us and

made us hold hands, and we had been inseparable ever since. She is the best friend I could

have asked for. She has always supported me, made me laugh, and is part of almost all of my

memories growing up, but lately Ive started to see a difference in where were heading in


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life.

She loves Karitane. She is perfectly happy maturing into the born and raised neighbour I

cringe about as my predicted future. I know one day Im going to have to let go of her hand

and get some memories to call my own.

-2-

SONGBIRD

I had found the perfect spot to cloud gaze and daydream, a place where I could mentally plan

and picture myself in an exciting new world outside of this provincial town I was stuck in.

Lying on the knee-high green grass that was riddled with custard-coloured dandelions, I made

a grass angel while looking up at the giant kauri tree that draped over me. I let out a deep

breath and closed my eyes, excited about the trip I was about to take in my imagination to

foreign lands.

A-ahummm coughed a shadow standing over me, blocking the spring sunlight.

I opened my eyes slowly and from the backlit sunrays the shadow brightened. A boy smiled at

me. A guitar was strapped around his side, a grey hat tipped over his sweeping brown hair,

and a string of hippy beads dangled around his neck and disappeared under his white V-neck

t-shirt. He looked like a hippie, or a hot, older version of Justin Bieberwas I dreaming?

Hello tree hugger! he laughed.

I laughed back and sat up. Oh, tree hugger am I? What are you? The sixth Backstreet Boy?

I shot him a cheeky grin and lay down again closing my eyes, indicating that the conversation

was over.

Well arent you sweet, he replied sarcastically. Im Joel. He extended his hand to

introduce himself.

I opened one eye, ignored his hand and responded, Im meditating.

Not to be put off, he laughed and lay down on the grass next to me.


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Now, I know youre name isnt meditating, he quipped.

I ignored him.

Youre kinda rude, ya know that? He smiled and carried on. What are you doing here?

He had rolled onto his side, staring at me like a little brother would, right in my space.

I turned my head to him and said very slowly and clearly, Hav-ing a-lone time.

OK, I can take the hint, he replied, but his smile remained.

As he got up to walk away I was overcome with guilt.

I sat up again. He turned around, brushing the dry grass off the back of his jeans.

So, you do want to talk to me then? He strummed his guitar for effect.

You are quite the charmer arent you Joel?

He took four steps towards me, strumming a different note on his guitar with each step. Then

he plunked down next to me again.

Come on then Daisy Chain, tell me about you. I could see that he was totally relaxed and

focused on me, all ears. Hmmm. A stranger who was as open to me as my journal.

So I let him have it. I told him all about how stuck I felt in this town. How I felt like breaking

free, starting over, giving up everything for a taste of the unknown. I even told him that Icame to this spot to daydream and plan where I would go and the places I would see.

I come here to escape reality, I guess, I laughed. I dont feel like Im meant to be here

anymoreyou know? That feeling when youre not on the right path in life? When you know

youre not in the right place.

How do you know when youre in the place youre meant to be, Daisy Chain? he gently

inquired.


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I shrugged, picking a long piece of gold-coloured grass, coiling it round my finger and

making a straw ring. You just know, you feel so happy and at peace; its an overwhelming

feeling like youre going to cry, but youre really happy.

Yeah. I know that feeling. He suddenly stood up, leaving the guitar on the grass in his

place.

Thats why I was drawn to you! he said, slapping his hand against his head in realization

and chuckling to himself. I cant explain it, but I was drawn to the flat piece of grass you

were lying in, and when I saw you it was like I knew youmaybe from a past life or

something!

Oh, Im the daisy chain am I? I joked about his spiritual insight. Ive never met a male

soul searcher before, I said, eyeing the beaded hippie necklace.

Who said Ive lost my soul? Im not searching for anything thats lost, Im just looking for

what I wantin life. He paused. I think I just found it.

Hah! I let out a nervous gasp of air.

Lets get out of here! Lets go find out where were meant to be over a coffee, he suggested.

As he leaned over me to pick up his guitar, I felt a bolt of electricity connect our bodies. He

felt it too, and hovered in place to enjoy the sensation. Looking deep into my eyes he could

see as my surprise gave way to shyness, and he moved away, sitting next to me with guitar in

hand.

He put his guitar on his lap and sang like a medieval geek.

To the world we shall venture,

with girl Daisy Chain,

turns out she digs me,

when at first she thought I was but a pain.

I burst out laughing, covering my face in embarrassment. He put out his hand out to help me

up.


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Youre a lot more charming when youre not singing, Songbird! I informed him. And for

the record, singing in rhyme is super lame unless youre Dr. Dre.

Like I said before, arent you sweet.

And thats how we met.

-3-

LOVE TRIANGLE

I would sit by my window when I knew he was coming to pick me up. I would peek out from

behind the curtain every few minutes to see if I could see him coming down the road. I

remember telling Fiona that I would get SBS waiting for him: Small Bladder Syndrome!

I had never felt like this before. So intertwined with somebody. Before I met him all I thought

about was getting out of here, now he was part of my escape plan. It was nice to finally have

someone to dream with, someone to scheme with.

We would lie in our grassy hideaway under the oak tree and laugh about the adventures we

could have.

Im going to teach you to salsa dance in Cuba! he shouted, standing in front of me doing

moves like a robot.

You have to learn how to dance first! I joked, throwing a handful of dry grass at his sorry

moves.

You can play a Latino melody for me on the guitar when I learn flamenco dancing in Spain,

I said, clicking my hands above my head like a Spanish senorita.

Youll end up with tomato on your face!

Why would I have tomato on my face? I asked in confusion.


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Because I would get the first hit in at the Spanish tomato food fight! He laughed,

pretending to throw an imaginary tomato at my face, acting out the tomato exploding over his

face and falling onto me, pretending to be hurt.

We would talk nonsense for hours in our spot in the field. Our conversation would travel from

Rome to Russia, Peru to Portugal.

I found it almost impossible to fit my other social activities in around himespecially when I

just wanted to spend every waking minute with him.

Fiona missed me. When I did manage to catch up with her she didnt want to hear anything

Joel. I was not to utter a word about him. As someone who disliked change she couldnt

have been less impressed with what was happening for Joel and me. Not only was I talking

about leaving her to travel the world, now I had already partially left her behind because Id

been swept away by another dream chaser. I could tell she felt ripped off.

I dont mind being the third wheel is all Im saying, Fiona said sipping her coffee, with an

edge in her voice that betrayed her words. Probably the only way I can see you these days

anyway

I laughed at her sneaky attack at me. Its not just you Fi, I feel like I havent got time for

anything. I cant even remember the last time I wrote in my journal. That wasnt like me at

all.

Stuff your journal! Im far more important, she said, only half-jokingly. As she licked the

frosting off her cupcake she frosted the tip of her nose, and chocolate crumbles stuck to her

face. I mean are you embarrassed of me or something?

She knew she had crap all over her face and tried to keep a serious face as she waited for an

answer. The couple sitting next to us stared at Fionas face smeared with icing as they got up

to leave their table. Fiona and I gave each other an awkward look and waited for the couple to

exit the coffee shop before bursting out laughing.

Im serious though Sophie, she said wiping her face. Invite me along with you guys. At

least then I can get to know this guy that youre going to ditch me for!

I put down my coffee and gave her a puppy dog look. Im never going to ditch you Fiyou


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know that.

I dont want to be around you two perverts French kissing and groping each other anyway,

she said pretending to look disgusted like the snobby older ladies sitting across the coffee

shop. I have better things to do with my time in this charming little town. She was terrible

at accents, let alone posh old lady accents.

My stomach was sore from laughing. Fiona was so animated. I missed her. I felt bad about

hardly seeing her lately, but I was so wound up in Joel I couldnt help it.

Its so nice to have girl time with you FiIm always going to need this ya know, I

reassured her.

Speaking of girl talk, fill me in Sophie. Has he tried to get into your pants yet? She leaned

over the table with mock intrigue.

Shut up!

Ill take that as a no then, she said, looking disappointed and sitting back in her chair. I tip

my hat to Joel, quite the gentlemen isnt he?

He really is! I glowed. I was so excited to talk to Fi about him and I needed her advice. I

mean, its not like I havent thought about it, I said suddenly feeling a little embarrassed.

Fiona leaned forward again, giving me her full attention. So, you love him then?

I looked up at the ceiling making a series of um and ah noises, biting my lower lip trying not

to smile. III havent really thought I stuttered.

Oh my god! she screamed, and then clasped her hands over her mouth. She was so loud that

everyone and everything in the coffee shop went silent, and people turned to stare at us. I

think I even heard a teaspoon drop on the floor.

I leaned in and whispered, Yes, I love himand youll be glad to know that you know this

before he does.

Dats right, I know before he does! she said theatrically, rocking her head, pouting her lips,


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and crossing her arms like a proud gangster. Us three got us a love triangle here girl! She

laughed. I could see she was excited I had shared my secret with her. You love him and I

love you!

Any awkwardness had passed and we giggled like the old friends we had always been. Fi

made me feel warm, like the caramel latte I was holding, and it felt good being close to her

again. But she wasnt the only thing I had been neglecting.

Heeeeeeeeeeey Journal,

Get it? Heeeeeeeeeeylike an awkward hello. The kind of hello you get from someone who

knows they have done something wrongthat would be me.

Sorry I havent written for so long. I am in loveso you can understand.

I finally had some time with Fiona where we unearthed this new information. Until then, I

hadnt even realized how deep I had fallen for him. Now Im faced with the girly stress of

telling him. Do I tell him, do I wait for him to tell me, should I be honest, or should I just play

the dating game? So confusing!

Fi thinks I should just tell him. Just come out and tell him, like its that easy. I guess she has a

point: life is too short to beat around the bush about matters of the heart.

On the other hand, I am absolutely petrified that Ill scare him off. More importantly, I want

the fairy tale romance and no fairy tale Ive ever read has the chick come out with the L

bomb before the guy. Not in happily-ever-after land.

So I have been sitting with this page open for the last twenty minutes, doodling in the corner

of the pageSophies, and love heartsand I think after some serious thought I have come to

my decision, Journal.

Im going to go with that joyous, right place, the Im so happy Im going to cry feeling Joel

and I talked about when we first met. I am going to wait until I am overcome with that feeling,

when I know the time is right, and tell him then.


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