She is only she ...

"She is no longer I, she is too long ago, she is only she..." 

 — Gregory Maguire

 There on that bench sits 19 year old me.  She is me, and I am her, or at least we were ...  or something like that. She is bold, head strong, determined, and full of enthusiasm.  She knows what she wants, and is not easily deterred.  If you question her choices, she only sticks to them with more resolve.  She is an impulsive risk taker that listens to her own heart more than any outside advise.  She is not teachable.  She is impatient, and wants life to hurry up and get to the good stuff.  She's pretty sure she knows how to make all that happen.  She is ignorant of her ignorance.  

When she is alone and quiet and honest with herself, she is afraid.  She is afraid that she might not be smart enough, good enough, or strong enough.  She is afraid that she might be wrong.  She is worried that the unknown might swallow her up and silence all her dreams.  She is terrified to fail.  To avoid this fear she stays in a state of perpetual motion.  Each day is full and each night she collapses with exhaustion, leaving no time to think and let the doubts and fears creep in.

If time travel, or communication across time at least, were a reality, what would I tell her?  What could I say that she wouldn't dismiss along with all the other voices?  I think she would listen to me, if I said it just right.

I would tell her this - First and foremost - "You are good enough, smart enough and strong enough.  You are capable of having a wonderful life and doing all that you dream of.  Don't doubt yourself.  Aim high and stay the course. Perfection is overrated.  Be patient. Be patient with yourself.  Be patient with others.  Slow down, relax and breathe.  Don't rush life, it goes by far too quickly.  Cherish each moment, each step along the path.  Be yourself, always, don't change who you are to try and please others, or fit in, or avoid conflict, or for any other reason.  Your authentic individuality is valuable.  Don't be afraid of your imperfections.  Love more, and fear less."

I don't think I would try and change any of life's details, even those I think of as mistakes, or opportunities lost.  I wouldn't say, "Stay in college and get your degree." or "Start an IRA."  She wouldn't listen anyway ...   I know myself much better now, and to have any effect, my advice would need to be subtle and in no way even hint at encroaching on free will.  

Life has chipped away at her and transformed her into me. I am a different person today than I was 20 some years ago.  I am now aware of my ignorance.  I am much less critical, of myself and others.   I have seen enough to know that in most situations, I don't know enough to judge.  Life is hard, and people are complicated. Perfection is not a requirement for love and acceptance.  Not by me, or for me.  God does not require it, and neither do I.  

 

For sure there are things that have happened since then that were not in the plan, unfathomable things of great joy and great sorrow.  Some days it feels like life has beaten the drive and determination out of me.  I long for the strength and energy I once had.  There are regrets, things I wish I would have done better, things I would not want to live through again. The times I have given up, thrown in the towel and caved to the fears and doubts I feel like I have let her down, that bold young woman bent on perfection. She expected much better.  She expected to win.  She did not expect to almost reach the mountain top and have to start over again and again.  Making it to the summit in one attempt is a great accomplishment and saves a lot of time, but I've come to realize that there is much more value in the climbing than in the arriving. I have learned so much from all the so called, failed attempts.  There is great value in playing the game, not just in winning. 

I'd like to say that I have become more teachable.  I suppose that acknowledgement is a step in the right direction, but I still don't take direction well.  Just the words, constructive criticism, put me on the defensive.  I still don't like to be wrong, but at least now I know that I am, on occasion, and it doesn't kill me to admit it.

 

At the core, I suppose, nothing has really changed.  I am still her and she is still me.  I am still an impatient, head strong risk taker, that doesn't  like to be told what to do.  I'm just not in such a hurry, and my eyes are a little more open to reality.