Coaches on the Edge are looking forward by looking backwards in their personal side view mirror. Are memories closer than they appear?

elizabeth: Last week I got a Facebook notice to “like” a page a friend had set up. I clicked on the link to say I “like it” and I saw this face and name in her friends group that transported me back to when I was in my 20s and living in San Francisco. My boyfriend at the time had a brother who was married to that red-headed woman I will call Ms. X (a fake name to protect me). I looked at her picture and thought about the different journeys we went on after we both broke up with the brothers. We did live a few block from each other in Manhattan. But we rarely saw each other because I thought she was living the more glamorous life. And I was entering my sullen-poetess-and-stand-up-comic phase. And dating guys whose faces I could never pick out of a crowd. I think that had to do with dimly-lit bars and becoming dim-witted after a half dozen Southern Comforts. See, Laurie, I did embrace some southern things.

Laurie: I embraced lots of southern things too, most of them men – well, boys almost about to become men.

elizabeth: I think I would like to remember my long haired-boyfriend and me as a couple of crazy kids living in a nine-room flat with a couple of flat mates who liked to stroll around naked. I couldn’t do that but I encouraged and supported it. And I am comfortable knowing that the time spent in San Francisco still feels unspoiled and innocent. So it needs to stay back there. I don’t think it could survive today.

Laurie: That’s so sweet. You want your teen years to remain innocent. Man, I am glad I escaped mine alive. As a lover of living on the edge, I look back and thank the Universe that I am still around to shake my head wonder “What the hell was I thinking?”

elizabeth: Good old Facebook (hey, Twitter, you’re not looking too good right now) showed up again this weekend with another flashback. A friend of over 30 years emailed me to tell me that she saw a mutual “party our butts off” friend over the weekend. Turns out it was for their high school reunion. Her class had what I foolishly considered the cream of the crop when it came to sweet talking, reefer happy hippie boys. But most of those young men I knew became disillusioned with life early on and that lead me to run away to the west coast. I didn’t want to be left behind where the best that I could ever hope to be was when I was 19.

And so far it is working because I still have all my facilities (regardless of what Laurie might say). And a place where long haired boys can rest and know that I rarely think of them as bloated men with three stands of hair who still think that The Beatles will reunite for one last tour.

Laurie: I know what you mean, girlfriend. As a birthday present, I implored my husband to take me to a Neil Diamond concert. And I kept noticing that all the people there were “middle-aged.” I wondered what on earth these “old fogies” were doing at Madison Square Garden on the same night as me, and suddenly I realized that some of them were probably my age. I was thoroughly bummed for a couple of songs, but I eventually took solace in the fact that the young people knew all the words. I pretended I was a part of their group and let the old folks do their thing. Totally delusional and not a drug in sight.

If you would like to learn more about Laurie, please go to her site: Empowered Life Journeys.

Stop by at elizabeth’s site at: Coaching for the Creative Soul

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