I fantasized that I stepped into a time machine and went back in time to visit myself in my twenties. Exhilarated with life I witnessed my free spirit, a long haired goddess with a ridiculously tiny waist in a paisley dress and sandals dancing to ‘Purple Haze by Jimmy Hendrix, the psychedelic and hypnotic music of change. The freedom felt intoxicating and I wanted to linger; but time is not stationary. The capsule floated steadily into the next decade. In my thirties I was a hectic wife and mother. My hair was a bushy perm but my silhouette still lithe and lean. I glowed with energy and joy as my husband and I chased our two shrieking little girls in a delighted game of tag. Regrettably, the vision was brief. The years accelerated into my forties. It was a time to accumulate wealth and status. The sunny joy of life had clouded over into compliance, replaced by acceptance of corporate behaviour and policy where those who towed the line advanced to managerial positions handsomely rewarded by soring salaries catapulting us to upper middleclass lifestyles. Now the engine of time hyper warped into my fifties. There sober and demanding corporate life was an assemblage of grey and black suits, blending individuals into an abstract blur, trapped behind a mission statement of degenerated values and morals dictated by the demigod whose only interest was shareholder yield – more particularly his own obscene financial bonus at year end. I needed to get out of the ugliness. So I pressed the button on the time consul labelled ‘retirement’. Poof! A blinding flash erased the horrid vision and I found myself naked in front the bathroom mirror. Curious, I thought. The reflection was serene and composed. Lines cut deep into my forehead and crowed around my eyes. Gravity had not been my friend. Grey roots betrayed that my hair was artificially colored. Alas, time travel had certainly inflicted its wounds yet deep inside my spirit remained attractively unblemished. I found it rather amusing. I chuckled and the sound revived an optimistic spark within me. I pulled on my clothes to start a new day content that I totally approved of the woman I had become.
By Marianne Scott
June 22, 2016