Becoming

It is never too late to become what you might have been.
George Eliot

I had lunch with an old friend today. When I first met her she was six summers old and had the longest plaits you can imagine. She was born with a talent of drawing horses. No one could depict manes and hoofs like her.

We talked about the roles we play. Especially as children. We adapt. If our teachers or our parents want sunshine girls, we behave accordingly. Or we chose the opposite. Anything to get the attention we need. For some rebellion gives the best results. For others, complying yields the rewards we strive for.

Why do we chose as we do? A mystery.

And who are we behind those roles we play?

Or - are they roles? Or simply clever ways to navigate our own territorial waters....

(Ps. I never got that shot of her. She lives across oceans, her visits are brief, our time together precious. So this is yet another self portraits. Yet another attempt to see clearly. In my experience - to see others fully, you must first see yourself. So I will try at both. Again. And again.

Meet my friend at her own blip site - Dancing Nomad. )