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I met myself

 Today I met myself. It was the strangest feeling of sudden recognition and understanding. Of course, it wasn't me. Just a girl going to my son's school whom I had never met before. She came to me as we got outside the metro station and asked me "What's your name?" in English. I told her, and I introduced my son, but apparently she already knew him. She had longish hair held back in a low ponytail. That way it doesn't pull and doesn't give you a headache - I know - and it stays out of the way. She was wearing a pair of hiking boots, my faithful companions through teenage years whenever I had a chance to have a pair to consume in endless walks, when I was finally old enough to ditch their awful Scottish skirts and white socks, and the prickly sweaters, to chose what I wanted, not them. And loose jeans, the ones that don't wrap on your skin like a wet shower curtain. And of course, she had a hoodie. Wouldn't be me without a hoodie. She showed me how her hand could go through the front pocket, and I sadly showed her my own sweatshirt today doesn't have a pocket, to my discomfort and disappointment. She had a cellphone, times have changed, and it was the coolest phone I had ever seen, bright yellow, with the back shaped as a racing car. She explained to me her dad wouldn't let her have a smartphone, so she chose that one (I would have too). She used it to update someone on her whereabouts (I'm at the town hall... I'm at the post office... I got to school), so I assumed it was one of her first times out there alone. I suddenly remembered that time, I must have been her age, when I "went out for a walk" and ended up spending 2 hours just exploring the neighborhood (we had recently moved), and my mother's wrath when I finally showed up as if nothing had happened, oblivious of her worry, of the possible gruesome scenarios crowding her mind. I just needed to walk, alone, with my headphones and that defective cheap walkman that i carried around with a small screwdriver taped to it, because the belt would slip out and force me to disassemble it on the go if I wanted to keep listening.

So today I met myself, although thinner, and much younger, but with the same stride, and the same stare, and the same way to talk to you looking somewhere else, or looking at that space right above your eyes, or the tip of your nose (did you really think I was looking you in the eye?). I saw my weakness and my strength, my curse and my gift. And I wished her with all my heart to find a welcoming spot in the world, to put down the armor and shield and slowly rock to some piano music when everything out there becomes unbearable. And at the same time, to pursue her dreams, nurture them and let them bloom. Because life is short, and the picture Facebook shows me today from 9 years ago, and the birthday we'll be celebrating later this evening, in loving memory, both remind me to do something with my time. Which is what I'm doing. Canning butterflies.
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