In the physics of space-time, time is considered the fourth dimension. Twice in the last few weeks, I have had meetings in places where prior versions of myself dot the landscape.
I don’t know if I was in a particularly reflective mood each day, but as I drove through my old haunts, I almost could see the teenager who regularly traveled to downtown Montgomery to go to the library and to visit her mother at the hospital (long since torn down) where she worked and the woman about to turn 40 who traveled with her husband back and forth to social services to take classes so she could be approved for adoption.
The mother who was so excited the day she and her husband and her little girl went to adoption court to have the adoption finalized was roaming around there too, so happy, as was the young attorney who waited anxiously at the steps of the Alabama Supreme Court building to find out if she passed the bar. (In those days, the Bar didn’t send the bar exam results electronically; they mailed them. If you wanted to know as soon as possible if you passed, you had to wait for the list to be posted on the bulletin board at the Alabama Supreme Court building that first day. Talk about nerve wracking!)
The older attorney who delivered briefs to the same building and on rare occasions visited its library showed up as well and even the woman who only a few months ago went downtown in order to judge a moot court event for the first time was there.
The other city, Opelika (Oh-pa-lie-kuh, emphasis on the “pa”), is close to Auburn, where I finished my undergraduate work at Auburn University. A lot of different versions of myself wandered there, too, although the college age versions I’ll keep to myself. We’re all entitled to the privacy of our wild oats (or at least we were until social media came along to preserve all of our young idiocies – um, I mean exploits – in perpetuity). Post-college versions of me exist also, since my husband worked there for six years in the early 2000’s while we lived about forty-five minutes away in a small town and Auburn/Opelika was our go-to place for shopping and dinners out.
I wondered what it would be like if you could see into that dimension, if like sliced sections of a loaf of bread, you could sit outside of the fourth dimension and view all the different vignettes of yourself through time in a single sitting. And I wondered what the younger versions of myself would think about me. What would they think about the triumphs, setbacks, and unexpected detours that changed me from the people I was in the past to the person I am now? I never reached any conclusion.
Would you like to meet your past selves? What would you like to tell them if you did?
Much as there are parts of past me(s) that thinking back bring me joy or make me cringe, going back is not for me
ReplyDeleteThought provoking blog. Thank you, It seems like every day something triggers memories—some pleasant, and some like Debra said, make me cringe. I often think of the movie “Peggy Sue Got Married,” where Peggy finds herself back in high school and gets to evaluate her choices. I’m just relieved that I survived some of the things I did.
ReplyDeleteWhat a fascinating topic! I've revisited many old 'me's since I've moved back to Pittsburgh two years ago. When nostalgia sinks a little too deeply I remember that every version of me was growing into the me I am now, the full-time writer I was hoping for!
ReplyDeleteCan't think of any time I'd like to revisit. If I went back, I'd probably tell myself, "Wise up!" especially in regard to taking my physical health seriously.
ReplyDeleteMy life isn't perfect, and I seriously miss people and pets who have died, but in general, every year that goes by is better for me than anything in past.