Ghosts of Me
Sometimes, myself from years ago talks to my current self. I don't hear it, of course, just feel it. In those moments I can remember emotions long forgotten.
This morning I was grumpily dealing with the thick wad of $1 bills that had accumulated in my wallet yet again, due to my bad habit of breaking a new $20 with almost every transaction. So there I was in Cafe Horrible, trying to sift through about twenty $1 bills with some "real money" jammed in all folded up sloppily, thinking how annoying it will be getting rid of all those ones, when I felt my desperately impoverished 21-year-old self bitterly snarl "I wish I had your 'problems'."
It was a humbling reminder that my life was not always as comfortable as it is now, and might not always be if I'm not careful. At 21, having twenty whole dollars at one time to spend as I like was a rare luxury. $20 meant I could eat for 4 days, or eat and smoke for 2 days. Once I had to bum $1 each from five friends to buy an urgently needed $5 winter coat from the Salvation Army. Once, the only $60 I had in the world got stolen from my apartment by my roommate's friend, and I cried all night.
Myself at 21 makes sure I take nothing for granted. Myself at 32 reminds me what deep and enduring loneliness feels like, so that I'm certain to nurture the relationships I have today. All of my other age-selves have things to point out to me from time to time. But the importance of their collective message is that I need to be grateful for everything my life is filled with today.
This morning I was grumpily dealing with the thick wad of $1 bills that had accumulated in my wallet yet again, due to my bad habit of breaking a new $20 with almost every transaction. So there I was in Cafe Horrible, trying to sift through about twenty $1 bills with some "real money" jammed in all folded up sloppily, thinking how annoying it will be getting rid of all those ones, when I felt my desperately impoverished 21-year-old self bitterly snarl "I wish I had your 'problems'."
It was a humbling reminder that my life was not always as comfortable as it is now, and might not always be if I'm not careful. At 21, having twenty whole dollars at one time to spend as I like was a rare luxury. $20 meant I could eat for 4 days, or eat and smoke for 2 days. Once I had to bum $1 each from five friends to buy an urgently needed $5 winter coat from the Salvation Army. Once, the only $60 I had in the world got stolen from my apartment by my roommate's friend, and I cried all night.
Myself at 21 makes sure I take nothing for granted. Myself at 32 reminds me what deep and enduring loneliness feels like, so that I'm certain to nurture the relationships I have today. All of my other age-selves have things to point out to me from time to time. But the importance of their collective message is that I need to be grateful for everything my life is filled with today.