The title sounds a little larger in scope than I was going for, but I may explore that too.

I was recently reading a book, called The Rook, by Daniel O’Malley. I enjoyed it well enough, and may go on to read the other two in the series. If you haven’t read it, and you don’t want spoilers, you may want to stop reading (though to be fair, the book is largely used as a jumping off point for other musings).

The main character, as you will find out within the first few pages, is named Myfanwy Thomas, and she works for a supernatural intelligence agency in London. And she wakes up, not knowing who she is or anything about herself, surrounded in a park by dead bodies, all of which are wearing latex gloves. She finds a letter in her pocket from herself, saying that she knew this would happen in advance, and gives her instructions to find more missives, and we are off to the races.

I found this to be an interesting take on how to get the reader introduced to a complex world, though by the end it could get excessive (particularly since every time we read a missive to herself, at least in the Kindle version, it leads to pages of letters in italics, which was tough on my eyes). But what I found truly compelling, was the way that the main character’s personality is rewritten.

Having awoken in her “new” self, she has none of the shyness or timidity from her past. She has no memory of the life that made her who she was; she just has the skills and abilities from before, and the ability to progress on the path she was on.

I found this idea so intriguing. So much of who we are, and how we respond to things, is in response to the maps of our lives, and what we experience. That can be trauma responses, or positive responses…but either way, these lenses color how we react. Who could we be, if we could shed the skins of our past, and see things new? Wake up with the skills we’ve learned and the ability to use them, but essentially….get out of our own way?

The book, whether intentionally or not, makes the argument that we could be superhuman badasses. I like that idea. When I was a child, I was extremely shy. I’ve fought it my whole life, and also had a hard time trusting people. There are various pet reasons I’ve come up with for the reasons that I am that way, but the fact is, it’s never totally gone away. I’ve learned to adapt and overcome, but inside I’m still largely that child, and sort of have to convince myself to behave in other ways. If I had no memory of a lifetime of hesitancies around people, or having had my heart hurt by those that I allowed to keep it in trust, would I still feel shy inside? Or would that go away?

Over the years I’ve seen various papers that have shown me that much of the behavior I would assume is learned, is actually genetic. What a fascinating concept, to have bits of personality just be born into us via our genetic lotteries. But how much of that ends up being cemented into place later on by experiences and trauma responses?

Over the last few years, I’ve had the unpleasant experience that I feel many experience around this time, and that’s the death of friendships from our younger lives. Social media has given us the illusion that we can just find the people from our past online, pick up where we left off, and just continue to be friends, happily ever after. But as I’ve moved out of my thirties, unsurprisingly I’m finding that life is more complex than that. But as the branches of our trees of life diverge, and we become further settled into who we are as people, something odd happens. Sometimes it’s just that you realize you haven’t had communication in a while, and when you reach back out it feels…odd. Sometimes it’s that someone unceremoniously cuts you off. And sometimes as we see our paths take extremely different turns, we find ourselves not able to allow the same time to someone that doesn’t seem to have similar aspirations.

These transitions hurt. We can see sometimes where our trust and affection were unaligned with the person we directed them to, where we were taken for granted. And then we pick up and move on. But looking back through that experience, we can also allow ourselves to see in what ways we have changed, and I like to think in many ways it’s for the better. For myself, I think that I have gotten much better at realizing that not every person is worthy of taking my time. I no longer have that feeling of endless time stretching in front of me; I am cognizant of my own mortality, and fairly comfortable with it. And with that feeling, comes the recognition that I should not just waste the time I do have. I have also had enough experience with people I blindly trusted, to learn the hard way that I shouldn’t have, that I realize that even though I’d like to extend open arms to all who would seem to extend open arms to me…I cannot. That flame hurts, little one.

So in the case of refining my experience into distilled wisdom for myself down the road, the trauma that has resuscitated my hesitancy in some regards with people, has also served to strengthen the bonds with those I am closest with. I no longer give time and attention freely, but I am more generous with those that are worth it. That annealing of love for a more select few is a process of heat and pressure, but ultimately has resulted in relationships that are both stronger and more beautiful.

These situations have also made me truly appreciate how life is not black and white. For me, it is just full of seasons. Some relationships are good for a certain season of life, and it is good to embrace them before it turns, and then appreciate the time we were given. It’s equally important to realize that not all relationships are permanent, and that we can’t force them.

So if I could wake up tomorrow, and have no memory of my past, what would change? Well I assume I would be even more assertive. Perhaps I would not feel shy. But would I lose the wisdom that things like the trauma of changing friendships have left on me? Or would that wisdom be deep enough that it would sink in on genetic level? I don't know. Obviously it’s all just an abstract exercise of thought, but it’s been interesting to toy with it. Would I take the chance to shed the bruises of my history, to only take up the mantle of the knowledge and skills that I’ve earned? Would I still be me? I think no.

Although I might like to try for a day or two and see what I could accomplish.

I've been thinking a lot about friendships and relationships lately. When you're young, you just sort of assume people will stay around until catastrophic actions happen. As you get older, you realize this is not the case. Sometimes we hurt each other, intentionally or unintentionally. I definitely have made mistakes with people; mistakes that I may not have even realized I committed, but saw later. Sometimes we are hurt by others. Sometimes it happens repeatedly. And sometimes, we just grow apart, as our goals and personalities and interests change.

In my youth, I genuinely felt people had the best intentions for me, as I did for them, unless they blatantly told me otherwise. I've fortunately moved on from that painful innocence, and realized that plenty of people can act kindly to our faces, but the buck stops there. I still try to do my best to help others whenever I can. If someone is acting in a bad way, I try to see what pain they may be moving through that is causing it. But I no longer allow myself to be stepped on for the betterment of others. Sometimes people can be false friends because of their own jealousies. Sometimes they keep you around to feel better about themselves, but then if they feel that they no longer have the upper hand, they no longer want the friendship.

One of my most important friendships ended in an incredibly painful way, out of seemingly nowhere, due to this. Sometimes they subconsciously don't feel they deserve a true friendship, and will sabotage it because they feel that's what they deserve. I've seen that happen too. Sometimes they are selfish and put themselves first; looking back, I can see that I've done this before, though I try my best to make sure not to be that person any more. And sometimes things end for reasons we will never be able to rationalize. We are long lived, and that's just how it goes.

Eventually you find out...and it's a tough realization, but honestly not everyone is good for you. Not everyone can deserve friendship. They can always deserve love, and caring, and for your best hopes. But you can't always let them into your circle. You don't have the time, or the energy, because eventually putting yourself out there for everyone will consume you. Some people will try to take all of you. I've learned to curate my friendships. I've learned that I no longer have a wide sphere; I have a close circle.

But here's what I have found to be a silver lining, because with age comes wisdom (even for someone as stubborn as me). Sometimes people stick with you, and give you more chances than you deserve. And sometimes you do the same for others. And as time goes on, and you assess people around you and your own goals, I realize something. I am closest to people who are trying to do their best. They are setting goals, and sometimes missing them, but always trying for them. The more I have surrounded myself with people of strong moral code and ambition, the more I have found, you really ARE more like the people you spend time with. And I find that the spaces that were filled by those with bad, or mediocre, feeling for me, are now filled by those who genuinely care for, and inspire me. I've replaced what used to be a crystal necklace of friendship, with a bracelet of diamonds. And that can only come with time and age, and it is one of the sweetest parts of getting older that I've found.

I have friends now from every stage of my life, and we have all changed and adapted and learned, but we have stuck together. The wisdom to be discerning in who I let into my heart, is a lesson that hurt to learn, but was worth learning. And to those of you here, who have stuck with me through my trials, through my darkest days and years, I raise my glass to you. Thank you for being here for me, and I am here for you.