Eden is in a play. Good. But also, this means lots of rehearsals and late night pick ups. My days do start at 5:15, but even without that early start, I’m not a good late night girl – never have been.
So yesterday, after waiting for her text to come get her, after trying to keep myself awake enough to drive downtown to pick her up, after bundling up for the drop in temperature, I was vaguely feeling put out: tired, oblivious, chilled.
Crossing the bridge from James Island to downtown, listening to Terry Gross on Fresh Air interviewing someone about food and cooking, I passed a woman walking the 2 mile bridge alone in the cold and in the dark.
Where is this lady going? Is she safe by all the rushing cars? How must that breeze feel across the marsh and water as she trudges along?
Some days I think I struggle but…
I am in my warm car; my car works; I have enough money for the week, the month, the next foreseeable future. I have a beautiful actress waiting on me, depending on me. We have food; we have the freedom to enjoy whatever we can imagine…
Yeah, yeah, yeah… I just gave you the feel-good, junk food, Hallmark card of gratitude.
What I really want to say is that in that moment, when I see the lady crossing the bridge, in the dark, in the cold, alone, I become her. I do. I walk in those feet. Identity is so slippery, I feel like I have to be careful at the stoplights for I slip into every person behind the wheel of every car that goes by.
When Chloe was one, through strange circumstances, I found myself strolling through the red light district of Amsterdam with a baby strapped on my back. I was glancing about and suddenly locked eyes with a woman dancing in a window: Me dressed in such a costume of motherhood and her a woman almost naked trying hard to lure men inside in the afternoon, glaring sun. Such outward contrast, yet she and I both knew in that moment that we were one and the same. I was in the window, and she was walking along with a baby.
Through merging in this way came a “knowing” of how transportable, transient and transcendent we truly are! Don’t let the costumes fool you!
Addendum:
My friend sent me this clip, which came into her mind from this post. Now I get to be Marlee Matlin too! 🙂
Life as Improv 
I do this too! “Identity is so slippery, I feel like I have to be careful at the stoplights for I slip into every person behind the wheel of every car that goes by.” I often think about how it was only by some trick of birth that I am here and that person is over there.
That is so cool you experience this too. Lately, I’ve been finding how much this connects to oneness. When we really know and feel and experience the other as ourselves, all of our interactions become so holy!