So, the world did NOT end on Wednesday (see post). Not sure what all that weightiness was about; thankfully it has been noticeably absent since then.
Moving on …
I’ve been thinking a lot about me when I was 24. Gosh was that was a romantic time. I was about to take my degree, which I paid for myself. I was uberly close to my Irish Twin. I lived for books. I took and developed my own black and white photo prints. I weekly walked mountain trails. I worked as a nanny. I was about to go back to Greece to live forever. I loved life and I loved me.
I don’t know if I was driven or passionate or fearless. I will say this, whatever it was, I wish I had more that in me now.
Gurus in linen say it is unwise to look upon the past with longing or regret.
Rather, we should examine our worn path and build our present from the fortunes and vulnerabilities of yesterday.
We should request forgiveness and accept our transgressions. Repeat days, not mistakes. Read. Give. Listen. Float. Have Hope. Be Empathic. Save Grace.
I’m 100% all in with all of those ideas … I can’t think of healthier mantras to cycle daily through one’s brain. I mean, go back up and re-read that last paragraph. I feel good for even having a thought that I could possibly achieve a smidgen of any one of those things today. How’s that for wishy washy?
I read guidance like that and I see the sunlit meadow off in the distance and sense the peace that comes from the lightness of an honourable heart.
I witness the majesty of a bird in flight.
I feel bold, justified and centred. And I fancy myself a gracious warrior following her noble cause like Percival to King Arthur and the Holy Grail.
If I were into tattoos, those collection of words would surely be blazen in colour for me to wear in place of this shirt.
But I’m not achieving any of those things. Hell, even if I were practicing any one of those super positive ideas, it’s inadvertent as I’m not interacting with humanity and no one is knocking on my door.
Instead I’m doing a no-no. I’m looking back.
Fear not Swami, I plan to bring this tale full circle with all fingers pointing at me. In three Acts. I just need to create a wave first.
At twenty-four my world was occupied with teachers expanding my brain and with friends who loved me. And when I write love, I mean love of the honest and finest kind. The esteem-lifting kind whether you need it or not. The kind I found by the time I was sixteen. The kind that is with me to this day.
If you read this blog, that’s my Core 5.
Surrounded by Knowledge and Love, a kick-ass combination, it was a powerful time to thrive as a human being, protected in what I now know was a bubble.
I had limited boundaries and controlled my own press. I didn’t give a thought to the guys trying to convince me to party and sleep with them, or the flirty professors, or anyone else not interested in contributing to my mind.
I was busy. I had places to be, libraries to conquer, clouds to reach. I wasn’t the smartest person in the room nor did I consider myself an idiot. And I simply wasn’t interested in dissective the motivations of a person or event unless it involved a coherent discussion and an opportunity to learn and be enlightened.
THIS is a philosophy I continue to carry with me, thankfully. Also, the theme of encountering that self-imposed smartest person in the room will come back around.
By the time I celebrated my twenty-fifth birthday during a blizzard in Virginia, I was appalled to find a fragility to my fearlessness. A hesitation in my opinions. A silence in my voice. A doubt to my convictions.
What a difference a year makes eh?
It began soon after I graduated from university and went to back to live in Greece …
End Act 1