Mariko, age 5: perfect…and angels in bars.

Two seemingly normal but essentially miraculous things happened yesterday: lunch with my friend Mari and a random chat with a stranger at a bar.

Normally, I do not use my friends’ real names in my blog. Mainly because they did not ask to be public figures even in the very small capacity that is this space. However, I am breaking my unwritten because I will leave private the details of our conversation and share only the essence…after a wonderful lunch, Mari and I were leaving the restaurant and she said, “you know, the person we come into the world as–that’s the person we spend the rest of our lives trying to become.” And she told me about a letter she wrote to her younger self, something I had been toying with earlier that day (incidentally).

We talked more about the sentiment and I added my favorite story about Jewels’ mom having to “teach” women how to breast-feed. The thing we are born being able to do. Its a series of unlearning and shedding of can’ts shouldn’ts fears and losses. In order to do something, we often have to forget that we cannot, or don’t know how to. We have to get out of our own way.

I thought about lunch with Mari all day and wondered about the kind of person I was at age 5. I remember reading. I got lost in books. At 5 I really do not remember friends, though I am sure I had some, but I remember dance, and music, and Spanish, and art…and reading. I remember making up stories and wanting to be a princess because they got to live at Disney world. I remember beautiful dresses and fun ruffly socks, and my smurfette night gown. I remember my grandmother laying on a floral comforter crying after my grandfather passed away, and I remember wanting to make her stop. I know I must have had a voice, but I don’t recall it. I cannot think of a single thing I said.

If this was me at my essence, what is my takeaway? *looks at the words above my picture to the left* always the careful observer. One foot in this world and one in wonderland, unsure of which is real. Typical. Isn’t it funny that who am I most appropriately coincides with who was I? Already am, always was. Still have time to be.

Later on at this country line dancing bar I found myself talking to a beautiful woman who wasn’t drinking, I asked her why? And she said she was a personal trainer and had to train early in the morning. I was intrigued. We chatted about workouts and the like and I told her I really wanted to establish a regiment that I would stick with and after we talked logistics she said “you’ll do it, you can and you will. Don’t stress about it, just do it, simple”  and while that advice may seem generic it struck a chord with me. She said it and I could hear Nicole the day of the spiritual retreat, “I give you health, love, sunshine, freedom…” it was like the two moments were suddenly very present and married. And like that moment with Nicole, I felt myself become very overwhelmed. I didn’t cry, because I was very aware of my surroundings…but I could have. Out of pure reverence.

When I have moments like that I think them divine. Before, I would say that god (external) sent an angel who delivered a message I needed to hear. However, now I would amend that notion; I (internal) heard echoes of my self ingested as truth. It is not vanity to believe that the things that resonate begin inward, I simply mean that in order for it to truly be heard or truly be seen it has to first exist within you. And when we recognize it externally it is but a reflection, or an echo…its why we respond it it so innately, because it is of us.

Two profound moments in one day and I am still processing. I want to take Mari’s advice and pen my letter soon. I also found myself wanting to share with her much more than I did. Another time, I told myself. Typical. I will have to hold myself to that.

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