Getting older

He says hi, probably because he considers me to be an old, long not seen friend. Or maybe he is just curious what has become of me.
I don`t really feel I know anything about this partially bald man in wrinkled clothes from a long, hot day; fine lines carved in his face in the corners of his eyes, distinguished grey  at his temples and around his ears.
He looks like an adult, a dad, a someone in an office. Still there is something from the boy he used to bein his appearance.

I wonder if I look as old as he does.
It is hard to believe I`m forty... still only fortytwo, not turning fortythree untill September.

The way I feel, it`s hard to believe there`s not a younger me somewhere out there: A me still slim, fit, ripped jeans and cheeky T-shirts.
It`s the enticing past. A past even better than what it actually was. I know I often look at myself in younger years through pink shades, but I like the idea of it being nothing but good times.

I believe it`s like that for all of us. We wish to go back in time, to a time when we were happy. Or more correctly:  time we imagine we were happier than we are today. We tend to forget what hard work it is to be young.
Some times I can`t stand the thought of not being young anymore. I don`t feel much different, and some times, when I pass a mirror and get a glimpse of myself, I wonder how, what, who and when it happened. Why didn`t anyone tell us we would feel exactly the same now as we did when we were eighteen?
Not that it would matter any: we probably wouldn`t believe them.

I thought that when I turned forty I would have... settled down more, in a way.
You know: live a content and boring life. Staying at home every night, never fall in love, and be satisfied living that kind of life.

Then again...: being settled and living that boring, predictable life makes me capable of making things happen. I travel where and how I want to, I can afford to dress how I want (and I am financially comfortable enough to dress down; cheap and out of fashion, if I please), I am now able (timewise, moneywise and familywise) to take riding lessons for my driver`s lisence for heavy motorcycle, I can buy a motorbike which is actually in an ok con  dition, I can go for a walk at any hour of the day without telling anyone or explaining myself to anybody.

I have become a woman who flips the pillow several times during night, so I can sleep on the cool side. I have reached the point in life when I critically measure my "lovehandles", wondering if I should leave them alone, or pick up on the challenge to get rid of (most of) them.
I read my life in my scars and imperfections and wonder if I would want them to be gone.

Regardless of everything: Deep inside I still think exiting things will happen, though.
You never know...

At peace with people and places

When travelling all sorts of strange things happen. I am on holidays in Turkey, and suddenly I stood face to face with a man I once  knew as a boy. He was 18-19 at the time, a year older than myself. He had a car and could charme a bird off it`s twig. I didn`t really know him all that well, but he hovered in the background of the "crew" I desperately tried to keep up with.

He came over and said hi in the restaurant, here at the hotel, and I just stood there totally caught off guard. My mind went blank and I just couldn`t think of a single intelligent thing to say. Not even hi. Those I used to call my friends back then never say hi, or even recognize my presense when I see them (long story), but here he was: a polite, handsome man with no other agenda than to recognize his memory of me and being nice.

It took me a day to collect my thoughts and feelings, which meeting him caused. Some times you need to come to terms with old determinations of leaving your past behind and start anew. To let people in for who they are today rather than who they used to be. He was never anything but funny and carefree and kind, and I found the best way to  go about it was to stand up and be honest with him... so at dinner I approached him and we had a nice talk.

I told him the truth: It was not my intention to make him feel I didn`t recall him, I was caught off guard since noone from back then ever do say hello. He was equally honest and told me he had been quite... hurt, but when I put it like that he understood, he knew what I was talking about since he often had the same experience with people he used to believe were friends. We ended up being quite friendly, and had a sincere conversation.

When it was time to go he paused for a while, looked me in the eyes and told me he thought it was a brave move to be so frank with him. It made him think that my past was a blessing for him.

Meeting him, was probably more like ships passing in the night. We will never be friends, but my mantra of forgiving, but not to forget, can be a blessing for others as well as it is for me. I am lucky to be at peace with my past, my present and, I believe, my future. Both when it comes to the people in them and how things are.

I was reading an article about social services, and in one of the readers` comments to the article a woman wrote that if you get reported to the children social services as a payback revenge for a break up, a fight, a thing a "hater" would do to you... what makes people end up in such situations? What kind of life, actions or abusive language make people end up like that? It isn`t good for either party to know you have unpredictable enemies who have it in them to do harm to you or those you love... and if you think about it, I am sure noone would want to be a someone who does that.

Forgive. It gives you resources to lead a good life, and courage to go better places. But you don`t have to forget. To remember, both the good and the bad, makes you the better person. At peace with people and places.