Hello Old Friend
in journal
here we are, in the future. still. it’s amazing.
i’m 43 now, but i still remember being 20 and sitting in ucla’s yrl late at night trying to figure out basic html and settling on the name ‘mellowtrouble’ because that was the names of two my four kittens. i was re-learning how to bike, or rather learning how to bike without fear. (our youngest learned how to bike a few months ago and watching her learn so quickly and happily with her father made me think about the unhappiness and stress and downright fear i felt when i was seven, eight, ten. it’s surprising to me to remember how often i was scared and how much being a scaredy-cat was a real part of my personality, or so it seemed.) i was meeting all these new people who knew about music and books and art that i had never heard of, they had all these social skills that made me see what an odd duck i was. i felt like such a fish out of water. such a square. and i was - and probably still am. the difference is, now, at 43 i don’t really care. i can shrug sorry, but then i’m too busy to care that much, too interested in the world and my head and the people i love and the important issues in the world and the richness of nature. now, at 43, i feel the press of time not because i am x ages and still not cool, but rather because i can see clearly that there is not enough time for all i want to do. i’m feeling ambitious in a way i have never been. maybe in a way i never allowed myself to be.
it’s funny, that ambition leads me back to the website i started when i was a startled twenty year old living far away from her family and unsure about so much. what goes around, comes around, but in new ways, surprising ways. there is a stability in my life now that there hasn’t been in forever, so i can see that girl with compassion and humor and even some respect. i remember for a long time, i couldn’t see pictures of myself from when i was in l.a. or, even earlier, from bryn mawr, without feeling the urge to slap that girl, that is, me. the feeling surprised me, shocked me even. what in the world was that about, i would think, and then quickly my mind would slide past, not wanting to dwell on what was clearly a problem in me. now though, i kind of shake my head, smile, and wonder at that girl who is still me and yet someone different, green, unknowing.
it feels odd writing here, so self-indulgent. i don’t expect anyone to read here, it’s been so long since i posted with any kind of regularity, and when i did it was often knitting-related or book-related. i’m not sure what this space should be, really. i’ll think it through, but mostly i want it to keep tracking, however intermittently, my life. so, hello old friend ~
