The first is immense gratitude for having lived in a part of the world where a woman's intensive 35-year search for "the real me" was possible. I mean, at times it has felt impossible, but I know full well that in certain parts of the world it would literally have been impossible.
The second thing (and I think I implied this in that essay) is to remind myself that sure, once the keys to my London flat were in my hand, I would probably spend a good few months or longer joyfully immersed in real me's musical world. But current me is powerful too, searching, cutting edge, nomadic, American me, and "she" wouldn't disappear. That's the whole point of getting them under one roof, as it were. After a short time, they would lovingly work together toward a new, richer and more all-encompassing goal, possibly the goal that's been the point of this whole thing all along.
The last thing, for now, is to mention that over the last six or seven years, a number of my friends have envied the fact that I at least had some idea who "the real me" was. They said they did not know who they really were inside, and wanted suggestions about how to start. All I knew to say was to pay attention to what you love, and/or to find a great coach, spiritual director, counselor, or therapist as I have off and on over the years. After writing "The Real Me," and thinking more and more about the surreal "oppositeland" quality of much of my life, I also wonder if other people might learn from the process of writing their own story of meeting up with their "opposite" (which of course is really their complement and possibly a clue to a more whole self...) I mean, if you are working the night shift at a convenience store, write down your conversation with CEO "you." If you are married, have five kids, a mortgage and three cars, converse with contemplative nun "you." If you live in a cabin in the woods, write a story of your meeting with the "you" who teaches in the inner city. If you live in New Mexico, write a story of meeting up with the you who lives in New England, or if you are living in the Y, imagine and write about living in a penthouse. I think many of us get pushed down a rigid "opposite" path by society's expectations or even our own desire to protect our beautiful real self. What are the complementary qualities that we are seeking to knit into our whole? Power? Solitude? Community? Respect? Warmth? Wet? Gardening? Music? Silence? City streets? Bushwhacking in the wilderness? It may be that just an hour of writing will give you some important clues. (I am sure other authors and spiritual teachers make this recommendation, but I don't remember reading it, or perhaps I needed to reach a point where it would happen organically, in my own time.)
I don't know what a psychologist would say, but I know what is in my heart. Bringing together the two sides of me that have literally been oceans apart, and "hearing" them joyfully compare notes over a glass of wine, has been the happiest moment of my life so far. I finally feel whole. A little shaky, but whole. And right now, the world needs as many whole people as it can get, doesn't it?
