“A rolling stone,” my father used to tell me, “gathers no moss.”
Is that a good thing, or a bad thing, I often wondered. It certainly defined his life, and seems to have become a fair portrait of my own.
“Never look back!” was another favoured expression. This is harder to do; especially when the past comes calling.
Over the last couple of weeks, I have encountered several people from my past. Ashamed to say, I find this unsettling for a number or reasons, the least of which is the fact that my life is currently at a total standstill: surely, they expected, as I did, that I would amount to more.
I also worry about whether or not I am the same person they once knew – and if my former self had any redeeming qualities, or am I going to have defend previous (continuing) idiosyncrasies; and justify abandonment (perceived or otherwise)?
“It’s not like you weren’t easy to find, had they wanted to,” my husband points out.
It’s true. I am on Facebook, Twitter, and have a blog! So, why now? What possible value can revisiting the past have? Okay, admittedly, I do it every day – in my own mind – but that’s different – it is introspective and highly subjective – and it’s okay if I tear me down.
Do I want to subject myself to objective input? Am I strong enough for that? Don’t people fall out of our lives for a reason? Could there be a purpose for re-uniting? Is it even possible?
If I sound paranoid or a little defensive, it is only a reflection of insecurity. I learned a lot about people when I fell ill. The same happened when I got divorced: relationships disappeared. I have spent a lot of time, in isolation, pondering the meaning of all that.
I do have friendships that have endured through it all, and I treasure those deeply. Maybe this sudden insurgence of past connections isn’t as threatening as my vulnerability suggests. There is a certain synchronicity to it, after all. Could I have left something behind worth reclaiming? Are these renewed acquaintances helping me rediscover what was lost?
I guess only time will tell.