Funny how nostalgia can wash over you fast and furiously, without warning and seemingly triggered by anything - a song on the radio, formation of clouds, a walk down the street. If you read my blog yesterday, it should be of no surprise where this waltz down memory lane is coming from - the impending slide out of one decade into another, and the unavoidable comparision of myself then and now. So is it a mere coincidence that last night when I turned on the TV, Disney's "The Kid" was playing? (And by the way, if you've never seen it, let's just say, it's not a complicated movie but it's cute and amusing and even stodgy folks would get the message.)
Like most adults, I probably would never recognize myself if Little Me walked up today and said "hello." What would I tell her about the world and how things would change, both good and bad? Would I tell her anything, or let nature take its course? I look at this old photo of me (go ahead, you can laugh), thinking of me with skinned knees (and I still have the straight-line scars to prove it), thinking nothing bad would ever happen. Ah, innocence. All in all, though - I would tell her that she will be fine...a little banged up, but just fine.
Alot of writers have explored this pseudo-existentialist idea, and have tossled with the theme "If I knew then what I know now." I remember having a "discussion" with a close friend a few years ago and my position was, if you approached life and viewed it the same way now as an adult as you did when you were, say 10 or 15, you had issues. She disagreed. Maybe Emily Franklin's "It's a Wonderful Lie: 26 Truths about Life in Your Twenties" or Ellyn Spragins' book "What I Know Now: Letters to My Younger Self" would have helped me make my point.
Then again, maybe Little Me would remind not to forget who I was, and how there's still a piece of her left inside.