My Tired Self, the Self that should never have gone camping last night, and heeded all warnings but went anyway, snorted and rolled her eyes as the bags dropped from her hands, “What did you pack in these? The donkeys and goats?”
My Professional Self was first to respond. She spoke articulately, making sure all the other parts of me understood that she makes everything possible. “Everything I need for a comfortable office — to design and create and build and bring change.” My Professional Self makes happen, at least, eleven impossible tasks that my Dreamer Self musters before breakfast.
My Feminine Self was eager to add, “Dresses. Jewelry. Strappy sandals.”
Most of my other Self’s moaned in disgust. My Feminine Self causes the rest of me a lot of headaches but what can you do but offer her the steering wheel when she turns those feminine wiles on you?
The words of my Romantic Self chimed like a song to match her heart, beating for Mi Amor, “You can never have enough pretty things.”
My Adventurous Self garbled her words in a hurry to get out the door, “Snorkel, mask, a new dive skin, camera equipment, hiking and workout shoes! I am ready for everything!” It’s true. My Adventurous Self is always ready and willing but is sometimes thoughtless about the ways she exhausts the other parts of me.
“A projector and screen so new friends can gather to watch outdoor movies! And a picnic backpack for long days in the sea with Mi Amor and our friends,” my Outgoing and Friendly spoke last probably because…
my Tired Self and Shy Self were melting down at what all this would mean for them. But even in her meltdown, my Shy Self smiled because she knew these were all wonderful ideas for building the life I had promised her — a next chapter of being more often on a floating rock, surrounded by molten turquoise sea, two time zones closer to her beloved friend, Alice.
We call each other Alice, you know.
Oh, how much two time zones makes a difference in the conversations between the Alice’s — one American and the other African.
And so… this Alice and all her Self’s went home.
