It is so interesting to discover point of view. For years I thought the whole world had the same point of view as me. If I saw someone with a furrowed brow and a downturned mouth, I assumed that they were mad at me. I might not know the person. I probably didn’t do anything worthy of ire, but I assume “MAD at ME!” Why I take blame and credit for every action of every person in my world is beyond me. I guess it is a habit that I acquired as a baby, or maybe I came into the world with it.
I am just discovering, after 60 years of angst, that perhaps I don’t have anything to do with much. The man over there with the scowl on his face - he’s just realized there is a rock in his shoe and he has to find a seat or bench to take it out. He doesn’t care about me. The baby with the smile and a giggle just saw a fly zip by her nose and has delight in all the world - not just me. Fly - strange lady - it’s all the same.
When I was a young adult, I identified as a hippy. I was of the generation that believed in peace, freedom, no wars, free love, experimentation in altered stated of conscientiousness, and generally finding ourselves. Of course, we were a bit “in your face” as we tried to draw the line between ourselves and those older than us. Us and Them. Can’t trust anyone over 30. If you’re not on the bus, you’ re off the bus. For a time that professed acceptance and love for all mankind, in hindsight I think we were a bit ageist. Imagine my shock when my children didn’t toe the lines I’ve drawn in life. That they chose to do their own experimentation and try various paths in life has come as a shock to me. After all, from my point of view - I’ve already decided the best ways - can’t they see it?