Letting go of… looking in the mirror in search of someone else…

An old friend called me the other day. In the middle of our conversation, I realized my daughter had been at her video game too long. So I put him on hold, switched gears and turned into tiger mom. I sternly told my daughter to stop the video game, to finish piano practice and get ready for soccer. After all, it was the fourth time I was telling her so.

My tone and content of this admonishment startled my friend. “This is a totally different side of you,” he exclaimed. Did I sense disbelief in his voice? I realized we had not met in over fifteen years and he probably remembered me from college days – carefree, lacking much responsibility and with certainly no propensity for disciplining others.

He joked how my tone made him turn off the TV, eat his breakfast and get ready for work. As funny as I thought this conversation to be, it made me tad wistful. I wished I was the person my friend remembered. Fun, spirited, easy going, with a sense of adventure and an “anything is possible” attitude. Or whatever else I now think that I used to be then.

I felt sad - not for how much easier life was then, but for my attitude towards it. I always had my fingers in many many pies, but I don’t ever remember feeling overwhelmed. I walked in and out of situations and experiences without a thought (which in the first place got me into situations). I don’t remember second-guessing myself, worrying about consequences or rationalizing as much.

Then I caught myself and decided to let go. Of all wistful feelings, of any attempts to remember or resurrect the old-me. Maybe vestiges of that old personality lie tucked beneath somewhere. Maybe they will resurface. Maybe they are lost forever. I let go of trying to look back and search for them.

Maybe it isn’t possible to go back to being who we once were. So why feel bad about it? Why look in the mirror in search of someone who may not be there anymore? Instead, why not find a way to celebrate what was then and what is now. No matter how stodgy the now seems to be.

That said, I can now turn into tiger mom again and ask my daughter to clean her mess of books. And I don’t have to feel wistful in doing so.