You can't get where you're going if you don't know where you are*

I saw an old school friend in the aisle of a supermarket the other day and ducked down into a different aisle so she wouldn't notice me. She was a good friend, a kind friend - I couldn't bear the thought of her seeing me as I am now. Lost.  Dreary.  Barely even here.  I would have had to admit that I haven't yet even begun to fulfill all that promise I once had.  Worse, I have become precisely the sort of person I swore I never would.

If I spent my first few weeks here weeping (and I did), then I am now beginning to notice the first few dots of light around the edges of my grief.  Though it hurts (God, it hurts) to admit that I haved lived as little more than a bad actor playing myself for so much of the past couple of decades, I can recognise that moving 'home' has been a catalyst in facing up to the fact.  And better to do it now, than in another twenty years.

Which also opens up the possibility to come out from under my own shadow and begin my self again, this time for real.  What that means, exactly, I don't know.  I do know that it is more than time enough to find out.

*Title courtesy Superhero Journal

Comments

[Tiel]

be true to yourself. The more honest and happy you are to yourself, the better friends you will have in life, be it 1 or 10 of them.

fantastic photo. I looked at it for a very long time.

[Daphne]

You are courageous, intelligent, talented and strong.

[kirsten]

wow.
so incredibly honest, vulnerable and perceptive.
i wish you so many good wishes as you step out on this journey.

[Tanya Borchert]

Wait a minute.....

There is no way I'm going to let you think I AGREE that you are a shell of yourself? WHAT?

You just made an enormous move, that uprooted all the comfort of routine and security and connectedness you had built around you. And then...THEN...you move "back" to a place that has significant emotion. Didn't it feel like moving back in time? I think it's okay to hide - sometimes it's just too hard to do the small talk.

If ANYONE - ANYONE - ANYONE is true to herself, it is YOU. You would never be able to write the way you do, if you didn't. Most people are afraid to look into the places you routinely provoke for ALL of us.

You'll see, sweet Megan...this valley will turn out to lead someplace incredible. I'm familiar with the valley -- and I'm not even a fraction of your depth.

Sending you good thoughts and good wishes.....and I LOVE the LAYERS in your photo; but I'm out of space ;-)

[Helen]

Bravo you. You are braver than me, you will survive!

[soNOTcool]

Wow. I don't know if I've ever commented here before, and I don't remember when I subscribed to your site. That said, it is like you put words to my feelings. I have many times taken a different aisle, turned and walked in a different direction.

There's something beautiful here in your blog, and that's part of you and a tremendous success, you.

[mary]

Haven't commented for ages but have been reading this and One Square Window. In fact in many ways it has been too hard to comment as your words echoed some of my own feelings in recent times. And I needed to deal with me before I could listen to you.

Hang on hard dear one.

And I will thank the universe every day that I do not have to go back to live in my home town!

[Angie]

I've been there too. Things will get better, just stay strong :-)
(love your blog!)

[h.]

Oh. I so get the hiding from people who were once friends. I hid from my friends for almost two decades by moving to the opposite end of the country. Just recently, I have started the process of gathering up these lost relationships. It is quite a bit like picking up beads lost under the floorboards and realizing that there was a reason you loved them, and that setting a while hasn't really hurt them, they've just become dusty. So I say hide a bit, if you feel like you must, but once you're grounded look them up and reach out again. It is a scary, scary process, but, for me, it has been very rewarding.

[Alice C]

Do you remember the derelict place that I photographed months ago?
One of the things that they will build on that space is a new campus for the Central St. Martin's College of Art and Design. It is an Art School with a long history in London and it will be hard for them to leave their historic buildings. However, the facilities on the new campus will enable them to offer so much to more young artists. It is always about balancing up what you lose against what you gain.
I think of you whenever we drive past that space. It has so much potential but the transition will be hard.

[Katie]

I absolutely love this new resolve. Bravo! I made a similar choice a bit ago, and, while it is scary in the beginning, the freedom you will feel is WORTH EVERY MOMENT. No one can be you better than you. Blessings as you begin this journey!

[katiecrackernuts]

Ah, mate. You're being too hard on yourself. You. Just. Are.

[monica]

be yourself, no matter what they say...

but the thing is... we are what we are all the time. And when we are not true to ourselves (whatever that means) that is still WHAT we are. Does that make sense?

We are always who/what we are. We always take ourselves wherever we go.

No?

[mary jane]

Ducking down a different aisle could be a metaphor for my life. Not a bad thing really.

[Berlinswhimsy]

I can relate. I now live in the area where I grew up and though I have friends here, I have yet to keep in touch with them. I've asked myself why that is and the answer has not come.

It's tough---growing older, questioning our existence, facing the past, all that stuff...

My thoughts are with you!

[Carol]

Moving home is incredibly tough. Give yourself time and plenty of it to come to terms with such a life altering move. It will take a while. Be kind to yourself and don't expect miracles overnight.

[Tara]

hi, just thinking of you

[j-girl]

wow. what an incredibly open, honest and raw thing to reveal to the world. i come from a town where you can't breath without running into someone you know. so i know all about ducking down aisles (and alley ways and around corners). it feels like i back tracked all of the time. i eventually left because i couldn't stand the claustrophobia. i ended up in london, where no one knows anyone and ironically i missed the intimacy and knowledge that someone would always come along that you know. i used to scan the streets for familiar faces. i realised that these people anchored me. to a place. to a time. to the world. without them i lost my connection to them, and ultimately to myself. now when i'm at home, i look forward to seeing these people, for in them, i see me.