Work, life and things in between – Day 5: Back in the days!
Speaking of children and passion, shortly before my job ended and my daughter who lives with me in Vancouver left for Montreal, we went to see Hair, the famous musical Broadway show. A show of the seventy’s as you will recall.
The performance was taking place on Granville Island here in Vancouver. A dynamic, effervescent place if there is one on a summer night.
We stayed on location after the show and the Actors came back on stage. A nice dialogue took place between some of us in the audience and them.
I shared with them how very clear it was for us when we were their age to have a different life than that of our parents. I was curious as to how driven they are to change the world these days…I see them driven to self-realization but I do not sense the drive for community support so much.
What happened to the all for one and one for all concepts we were so high on I asked them? Of course, they have their own version of it.
On the way back, my daughter was the driver and I, the passenger. We were still high from the music and the aura of the overall evening. So my daughter, whom I lovingly call a witch as she has this extraordinary ability to read people’s mind, to hear the unspoken and see the invisible, turns to me and asks
“Mom, when did you stop being a Hippie?”
Ouch! Where did that come from? How does she know that at twenty, after two years of college in Arts and one year of traveling in Europe, I had become what you could easily refer to as a Hippie.
If you knew me today in my Executive role and my pencil skirts and high heels, you would never think of me as a flower child in long skirts and toe cap boots. However I was at one time and those who know me very well know there is still some of that lingering in me.
My daughter is looking for it. Should I?
I am scanning my life fast backward trying to find out how I traded my long skirts for those pencil skirts? Did I ever make that choice or did it just happen while I was not looking? How is it that such significant change happens and you don’t remember when or how?
All I could think of was that it occurred when I married her father . He was a conventional man and we joined a very, very conventional world and soon thereafter I was a Mom…. However, this was all fine by me at the time. Nobody twisted my arm. I liked who I was.
Looking back though, it does feel at times like I have strayed from some core principles… more to come.Speaking of children and passion, shortly before my job ended and my daughter who lives with me in Vancouver left for Montreal, we went to see Hair, the famous musical Broadway show. A show of the seventy’s as you will recall.
The performance was taking place on Granville Island here in Vancouver. A dynamic, effervescent place if there is one on a summer night.
We stayed on location after the show and the Actors came back on stage. A nice dialogue took place between some of us in the audience and them.
I shared with them how very clear it was for us when we were their age to have a different life than that of our parents. I was curious as to how driven they are to change the world these days…I see them driven to self-realization but I do not sense the drive for community support so much.
What happened to the all for one and one for all concepts we were so high on I asked them? Of course, they have their own version of it.
On the way back, my daughter was the driver and I, the passenger. We were still high from the music and the aura of the overall evening. So my daughter, whom I lovingly call a witch as she has this extraordinary ability to read people’s mind, to hear the unspoken and see the invisible, turns to me and asks
“Mom, when did you stop being a Hippie?”
Ouch! Where did that come from? How does she know that at twenty, after two years of college in Arts and one year of traveling in Europe, I had become what you could easily refer to as a Hippie.
If you knew me today in my Executive role and my pencil skirts and high heels, you would never think of me as a flower child in long skirts and toe cap boots. However I was at one time and those who know me very well know there is still some of that lingering in me.
My daughter is looking for it. Should I?
I am scanning my life fast backward trying to find out how I traded my long skirts for those pencil skirts? Did I ever make that choice or did it just happen?
All I could think of was that it occurred when I married her father . He was a conventional man and we joined a very, very conventional world and soon thereafter I was a Mom…. However, this was all fine by me at the time. Nobody twisted my arm. I liked who I was.
Looking back though, it does feel at times like I have strayed from some core principles… more to come.