I just read a really good book

I just read a really good book.  It’s called What Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty.  Have you read this?

It’s about a woman who falls off her bike in spin class and forgets the last 10 years of her life.  She doesn’t remember her kids or that she’s divorcing her husband, she can’t remember her house or any of her friends.  She doesn’t know why her sister is mad at her or why her neighbor won’t even wave to her.  She thinks it’s 1998 but it’s 2008 and she’s 10 years older than she thinks she is. 

Last she knew, she didn’t even work out and when they told her at the hospital, she didn’t believe she was even in spin class.  I can relate to her…the not working out part, the falling off the spin bike part.  But it’s more than that. 

I can relate to the occasional feeling of “How did I get here?” or “What happened to my relationship with so and so?” and I can certainly relate to the way she felt when she looked in the mirror and thought, “Who is that old lady?”

A lot happens between the age of 28 and 38 years old.  For a lot of us, that’s when we had kids and bought houses and changed careers and added on to houses and moved houses again and changed careers again and had more kids.  Think about it, if you forgot the last 10 years of your life, would you know your husband?  Would you know your kids?  Would all of your relatives still be alive?  Would you know your friends?  Would your career be the same? 

Now, we all wish we could suddenly realize we are 20 lbs lighter and all of our dreams have come true.  Can you imagine?  That’s a whole different, “How did I get here?” than waking up to find yourself mean, angry, bitter and alone. 

But the best part about the book is that she is really sweet and kind and vulnerable when she “wakes up”.  It’s as if she’s been restored to her old self – her younger, trusting, loving, open self.  She is mortified to learn she had become someone who had alienated so many people. 

Have you ever felt that?  Have you ever felt like you don’t recognize yourself because you are a machine just getting stuff done.  You have an agenda, you are busy.  You may be worried or fearful or desperate or depressed.  Spin class is a good metaphor for this – you just keep spinning through the pain and the sweat and the rapid heartbeat.  You do as your told, you ride up hill, you push harder and harder to get to your goal.  Kind of like some of our lives…

This is why we need breaks.  I love it when I’m out with friends and laughing at something silly.  I’m not thinking about my “to do” list or my bills or crime in the area or the economy.  I feel young again.  Laughter can do that.

This is why I think we long to connect with old friends.  We long to be the person we were.  We want to be with people who remember us as the fun loving, laid back, idealistic, open for anything people we were.  They remember us.  They remind us. 

The people that stay on the journey with us…the husband, the kids, the siblings…they see the transformation but at the same time, they are also being transformed by their own lives.  Life isn’t always fun and games.  That’s the tricky part.  How can we manage the changing, growing, learning and becoming an adult while still keeping the laughter?  Can we allow ourselves a space within to be hopeful and idealistic?  Can we show that trusting, loving side to the world?

When she “wakes up” she “makes up” for all the distance she’s created and all the relationships she’s neglected by remembering these people as if she had wiped the slate clean.  She didn’t remember the annoying looks or the strained conversations or the judgment or the fights.  She was excited to see them and she was accepting of them.  She no longer took people for granted.  She saw her life for what it was…beautiful.  And she wanted it back.

We can’t all go falling off spin bikes to have an “awakening” but we can open our eyes.  We can remember who we were…scratch that…who we are and we can make it right. 

I’ve been called idealistic, Pollyanna, unrealistic…I’ve been told I wear rose colored glasses.  Maybe this is meant as an insult but as I grow older, I wear it as a badge of honor.  The reality is, I am past 38 years old and some days I am jaded and cynical and weary.  Those are the days I want to just go back to sleep and I pray that I will “wake up” the next day remembering that I’m really an optimistic, hopeful, happy person. 

We all can be.  It’s a choice. Unlike our outward appearance, our internal self can be any age we want.  I happen to think 28 is good…young, healthy, happy, hopeful and ready. 

What about you?  How old are you inside? 

What would the “you” of 10 years ago think of the “you” today?