Whenever I drift off, I wander back in time, reliving the past while cognizant of my future.
I endlessly daydream about finding my 41 year old brain in the body of some earlier version of myself.
I imagine how I would respond to things differently, explore what choices, priorities, activities and friends would change.
For example, I recently reconnected with a guy that went to my high school.
I remembered his ongoing and hilarious English class commentary whispered from the seat behind me.
How would my life have been different if I had made a friend of him then?
My mind wanders, I play scenes from my past out in new ways in my head.
I wonder about other old classmates. Who were the kids in my class who didn’t go to all the keg parties?
What did they do instead?
What did I miss in not knowing them?
Who did they turn out to be and would they seem more interesting to me now?
I dream up conversations never held.
I imagine my old brain forcing my young body to swim laps, something I’m committed to now but wasn’t then.
Would that young body seem out of shape because I didn’t exercise regularly or would I be amazed at its youthful power?
I see myself at our old YMCA pool in my home town.
I think about my parents and wonder how they would seem.
They were younger than I am now when I was in high school.
How interesting it would be to witness them almost like peers.
Yesterday I found myself daydreaming like this again.
Just out of college, I pursued a different career path. Because I knew the future, I found and followed someone I knew would turn out to be a rising star.
I played out my life in this different profession.
The thing is, these reveries always come to the same abrupt end.
I follow the path too far and am suddenly desperate to find a way to meet my husband – or if I have found him (in the daydream) earlier in life (because I know who he is and what he will mean to me), then I scramble not to alter our future.
It happens like this every time... I imagine myself walking down a different life path and then, desperately try to make the pieces of this one fall into place.
If I could live parts of my past over again, I’d be afraid to do things too differently lest I miss the road that led me to K, and subsequently The Mayor and The Rooster.
I don't think I create these scenarios because of any specific regrets.
Everything I’ve chosen has led me here and made me who I am.
I’m where I’m supposed to be, doing what I’m supposed to be doing, with all the right people.
Still, over and over again, my mind wanders down these different paths, exploring ways things might have been.
I wonder what it is that draws me in again and again.
3 of 365: Today's random list of little things for which I'm grateful...
- Swimming 2,700 yards of consecutive butterfly.
- Seeing a photo of Barack Obama at his desk in the Oval Office for the first time.
- Pork rub. (I mean, what is not to like about that?!!)
- Simply Nutmeg.