Thursday, April 10, 2014

Ghosts and Dreams

Musing at Beaver Run

Living in a place that you have visited off and on over the years gets you to thinking about how you change over time.

I first visited Breckenridge as an eleven year old, day trips up on occasion from where we lived down in Denver. Then I though that I could do anything or be anything I wanted. Mostly I dreamed of being a ski instructing acting vet who wrote on the side.

The next time I visited Breck was as a nineteen year old student. Fresh from my first term at Imperial studying Physics, I think I had already worked out that a life in academia wasn't for me. That Christmas break here in Breck was probably the first time I realised that maybe you couldn't do everything. I also remember it as being incredibly painful as I had an infected wisdom tooth. By the next Christmas I would've moved to Leeds Uni to study Material Science and Engineering and be lighter four wisdom teeth.

It was another fifteen years before I returned to Breckenridge. Older, maybe not wiser. I was thirty four and heart battered and beaten. I was in the verge of starting my self employed period where I juggled radio presenting, voice overs, and writing with project management. And after that holiday I never thought I'd be back.

Yet here I am.

Forty two and actually living here until July. I pass the condo I stayed in back when I was nineteen and wonder if I can see the ghost of me standing at the window. What would she think of me now? My life has taken such twists and turns that I don't think she would ever have guessed I'd be here.

And then I pass the restaurants I ate and drank in eight years ago. It isn't so long but there are still big changes. I catch myself looking for that sad woman out the corner of my eye, I want to hug her and tell her she gets the guy. And she gets to write.

Every so often when I ride the chair lifts, I can see eleven year old me swinging her skis. She is yearning to throw herself down the mountain as fast as possible because nothing matters but the skis and the snow.

I wonder if I squint a bit whether I'll start to see a future me wandering down Main Street... what would she think?

1 comment:

  1. A very thought-provoking post! It is strange to look back and I don't think you can ever know where life will take you - it certainly twists and turns in unimaginable ways! Glad you're where you want to be now :-) xx