Missing Me?

It is possible to miss a previous version of yourself without actually wanting that version back.  Like I kinda miss the shit show version of me, drunk and on the loose, but I don’t want her back.  But sometimes, I miss the reckless abandon she brought to my life.  But then I also have to remember the pitiful and incomprehensible demoralization I felt every time that bitch took over.  The next day after a night with her was fucking hell, for years.

I feel like if we are doing living well, we grow into new versions of ourselves all the time.  The newer, more evolved us has the ability to do things that our previous version just could not.  Like the me today is still fun and engaging but she doesn’t come with a side of self destruction that leaves a swath of wreckage in her wake.  I can still be fun, exciting, dramatic, a wise-cracking smartass.  I can still be spontaneous and laugh so hard I almost pee my pants (heads up, the peeing your pants part just gets easier with age so the funny doesn’t have to be all that funny...)

There are times when I miss the prior versions of me, but they are generally fleeting and easily dismissed.  I have learned that it is ok to miss prior versions of me without actually wanting that version back.  Kinda of like we all have things we love about all the different spider mans.  But we all have our favorite, and of course, it is Tom Holland, Duh!

As a human being I am constantly evolving into some better, more refined, more real, authentic version of myself.  And if I am not doing that, well then, what the fuck am I even doing?

For me, the point of living is to deepen my experience with myself, for myself, in spite of myself.  Not so that I become this more evolved person for my own benefit but so I can more meaningfully engage with you, your life and your path.  The higher the versions of me vibrate, the better chance I have to connect with people who are similarly working on themselves and that effort benefits all.

One of the added perks of evolution is that, while I may occasionally miss some prior version of myself, I do not have to go back and become that person again.  I can appreciate that version of me and all she taught me, all she learned and how she integrates with the version of me that is now living my life.   I can miss her, acknowledge her and appreciate her, but I do not have to go back and BE her, ever.

If I am doing living well, I think, in review of my life, I can appreciate the contributions of all my prior versions, but live in a well of gratitude for the process, the path, the evolution beyond my prior limitations, healing and trauma.  I realize, every fucking day, that I could have stalled out in any one of those prior versions, and remain transfixed in space and time to that limited edition of me, that was lovely in many ways but also, broken, damaged and delayed.

It takes a lot of courage to evolve.  So much easier to reject all of that growth and change and defend your right to be static.  But are any of us ever really static?  I mean, even if we refuse to grow, the energy it takes to defend our defenseless position, is energy that could be used in a more positive way.  The energy is there for either:  circling myself over and over again, defending my right to stay this size, this version, this person, or I can use that same energy to uncover, discover and discard the things I don’t really like, have outgrown or no longer serve me and see what happens.

I am not claiming to be some spiritual guru or giant here.  I guess I am just grateful to all the former me’s that were willing to sacrifice themselves on the alter of individual progress, with attention to hope for change and growth and peace.  Perhaps that is the most lofty form of living where you as you are, find the willingness to end that person, in the hopes that allowing that version of you to die, births some other version that is better, more whole, less tragic, and more giving.

And perhaps the highest form, for me anyway, of all my growth is that I feel and experience a deep well of gratitude for all the prior me’s. I am so grateful to them and for them while at the very same time not ever wanting to be them again.  Grateful, once more, to have grown into a person that is always underway, always working shit out, but not with denigration and disgust, but with a peaceful abiding that underscores a deep, benevolent love.  I mean if I can find grace and love for those fractured, broken former me’s, I think there might be hope that I can find that for my fellows on the path...

Again, still...