Dear Stranger

Dear Stranger who I used to know,

After three years, you stepped into my life for a moment, one surprising moment in time. Who would have guessed I’d bump into you at FedEx? I thought for sure it would be the grocery store or the movies. A place where we might stroll a ways and chat, politely catch up with just enough time to subtly prove I was happy, successful and much more interesting than when you knew me.

That isn’t exactly what happened. I sincerely admire the courage it took to tap on my shoulder and say hi. Go you!

Sadly for you and for me. I was taken off guard, and then the learned response to be polite kicked in. “Hi, I’m fine thank you.” Avoid eye contact. And then, well, nothing. Just nothing. I couldn’t find a way to ask how you were, how your family was, even what you were doing at that location. I could not find a breath or an opening or even some basic question to ask.

And then you were gone.

I was a big ol’ chicken.

Life doesn’t provide second chances in a situation like this. That’s the difference between real life and writing, no chance to go back and edit. Only a feeling of regret remained.

Ack! Aren’t regrets something to be avoided? Should you life your life with no regrets? Or are they a sign of a life well-lived?

I have a few regrets overall, but I try with time to get some perspective about them. After all, each action is a choice you make. I saw a saying recently that seems about right: “There are no regrets in life, just lessons learned.”

Of course, learning so it really sticks comes only after some bashing from the self-critic inside my head. The voice that knows just what to say and when to say it to get the best results. Too bad it is usually hours or days later. Sigh. but that’s beside the point.

I’m taking heart in the idea that the sticky lessons are really good at camouflage. They sneak in and stay hidden, unnoticed while they get comfortable and acclimated. When you need them, they are there, even if you don’t recognize them at first.

I’m sad about missing the chance to catch up with the stranger, but it was a good lesson about breathing first and not trying too hard to impress. If I had been true to myself, I would have hugged him and asked a million questions all keeping him within arms reach. I think in the end, I would have let him go on his way again without needing anything else. But I could have kept the warm feeling. That would have been a much better ending.

Being yourself might be the most difficult lesson to learn. Over and over again. It’s definitely the one that is the most important to make stick.