An old friend is looking for you, I’m told. A friend from back in the day…
But the me of then – she’s not around any more. I hardly know her. I remember some things about her, and when I tell people stories from the past I say it in first person but… it’s not really me. It’s almost like a movie about someone else’s life.
Some friends have kept up with me over the decades and I’m amazed at those, the few who stuck around through so much change, though I do sometimes wonder how much they really understand about the changes in me – especially I think of those who knew me before I was born again, because that really was a huge change and I barely recognise the previous version of me. I recently listened to a tape of a talk I gave in July 2000, just two years before my rebirth, and I thought: she sounds nice, and I’m ok with what she’s saying, but it really was like listening to someone else. Someone nice, who said some good stuff, but not me.
So a person who knew me in my school days and in my early twenties – someone I was close friends with about 30 years ago? She doesn’t know me. The person she was looking for – that person is no longer available. It’s a bit like if you’re a butterfly and someone knew you in your chrysalis stage. I’m not that person she was looking for – I’m not the person she was friends with back then. I’ve moved on.