I try to live my life in the present as much as possible. Too often looking at the past can bring up a lot of pain, anger, shame. At least for me. Even with having cleaned up much of it.
But then there are times where looking back can bring nothing but complete and utter joy, laughter, compassion and gratitude.
On New Years Eve I was looking at Facebook pictures, seeing what friends were doing, how they were celebrating, who they were kissing, when a name came up on my news feed in the “People You Might Know” section.
It was a name and face of someone I didn’t really know (let’s be honest, we use that word so casually but knowing a person’s name and face does not qualify as knowing a person). But this person was someone who I remembered from the past.
We both grew up in Los Angeles and went to all the same schools but since he was a few years older we were never in the same school at the same time. But, if you grew up in this town in the 80’s and lived in the same neighborhood everyone kinda overlapped. You went to the same parties, the same clubs, the same fast food stands, even the same beaches in the summer. And names and faces mingled and mixed even if you were a few years apart.
Well, at one of these parties, and at the not so sweet young age of 14, I crossed paths with this guy. I was drunk, he was drunk and we literally bumped into each other and, well, kissed. You know, ’cause that’s what you did at these parties and, like I said, we were drunk. We didn’t exchange names, numbers or even goodbye’s. We just both shared this kiss and then drifted in different directions at the party.
The end.
But I always remembered him because when you’re 14 years old you remember every boy who kisses you. Especially if it was a great kiss.
So, there I was on New Years eve looking at this person and I thought, what the hell, send a request.
He accepted.
We started talking and talking and talking… there is something so amazing about talking to someone who grew up in the same place at the same time in the same way as you did. You remember the music, the fashion, the hangouts, the couples, the break-ups, the deaths… the time.
The time.
We reminisced about the way Westwood village looked when we hung out there. The high school parties that were notorious for the lack of supervision and the abundance of drugs. We shared stories of the concerts we went to, the clubs we sneaked into and the reckless, wild, world we ran in.
And, best of all, we survived it. All of it. The drugs, alcohol, car accidents, heartbreaks. We survived.
In talking to him I felt more in love with my past then I ever had before. And something else… I fell in love with that 14 year old girl who I had always been so hard on. The girl who was so insecure. So full of secrets. So confused with all that was going on in her little world. She was already drinking and smoking pot. Already bumming cigarettes off people. Already kissing older boys.
And she was beautiful.
I can see that today. Beautiful. Alive. Dancing to Duran Duran, running around town with her girlfriends, being a teenager of the times.
A different time. A brilliant time.
Looking back with this man has helped me see everything again. See it fresh. See it new. See it together.
A sweet, unexpected, delightful present… for the present.
(this column was originally posted January 27, 2014)
I also look back on those times. Lots of good times, some bad times and plenty of crazy times! I’m sure glad we all got to experience that decade of excess in our part of town.
thanks, tom! so glad you were part of my past!
a window into eternity – the ever expanding, present moment.
so right. always the girl. we never get old. bodies wear out. energies fade.
but.
when we are alone, we dance.
dance, indeed!
Very nicely written, I could completely relate to this look back in time. The scene was pretty similar for high schooled in the SF Bay Area. I remember that kiss, except it was with another girl.
thanks, andy! i have no doubt that girl, wherever she is now, remembers you!
I love your bravery at once again opening yourself up. And I think we all need to not only forgive ourselves for the past but celebrate that which helped us become the rich souls we are now. I was immediately drawn into that intersection in wonderful Westwood. The many movies and dark, clumsy fondlings…truth or dare behind Swensen’s…Great piece, Susan. I wish I hadn’t moved away from all that sometimes, times like this.
love you, justin. you were missed when you moved but never forgotten. xo
It’s funny how just about every town, and most neighborhoods here in Southern California now have a hangout for teens and high school kids, but back in the 80’s, Westwood Village was really the only such place on the Westside, and the best teen hangout in the whole Southland, and that’s why I remember teens would come from as far away as the Inland Empire and even Palm Springs to hang out in the Village on a Friday or Saturday night.
it was an amazing time! thanks for sharing in the memory!
The funny thing is I am 30 years older, grew up in Westwood and have the same wonderful memories of Westwood (less drugs and alcohol in those days) but it was a very special place and I got to experience it twice: once as a teenager and once as a Mother with my teenage children. Happy Days!!
you dropped us off and picked us up in westwood nearly every weekend, pat. thank you!
Tears and a smile. Lovely. Thank you for the trip home. Makes me want to take the RTD to Postermat, grab a peanut butter donut at Stans. Maybe tomorrow go play volleyball down at tower 22.
thanks, mary! stans is still there!
As cool as it sounds to have been part of your past, a lot of us are honored to be part of your future!!