I had a long conversation with my twenty-something self today. She woke up after a decades-long boring coma and wondered why we weren’t eating pancakes. After listening to her rant for over an hour I gave up trying to explain that pancakes are a bad idea for someone prone to a wider backside than was on hand back in the 1980s.
She’s also right that waking up dormant selves could be an unpredictable and wonderful way to spend the next fifty-six years.
A therapist once told me that every person has multiple people inside them…the worker, the parent, the lover, the kid, the friend, the pissed-off teen, and we bring them out depending on the circumstances we’re in. It would be interesting to test the theory and notice when an awakened aspect giggles in the background, allowing a more spontaneous existence. The creamer aisle at the grocery store would certainly be more captivating.
This practice might allow the inner kindergartner to seek new friends and want to know how stuff works, the teen to vociferously advocate for those less fortunate, the lover to choose passion rather than Netflix, the worker to stay confined to a thirty or forty hour week so the parent can remember their kid likes to play catch at sunset. It could bring forth the twenty-something imaginative and witty flamethrower, who wants to explore the world and believes that life is worth more than sleep-walking.
Today I had lunch with Freedom Girl and damn she’s a hell of a lot of fun. I was informed between bites that along with pancakes, there will be long driving trips, dancing with my dog Pi until we're both nearly sick, hilarious chats with creative types minus a choke-hold filter, deep and lengthy musings on song lyrics, and great big guttural laughs that won’t stop until everyone pees their pants.
May all the kids within us awaken their feisty wisdom, humor, and whimsy to inspire a life with endless possibility.