REAR-VIEW MIRRORING

Lately I've noticed friends on Facebook participating in a sharing game about their lives. Maybe you've seen it: You leave a message on a pal's wall who has already shared details about themselves; your friend then emails you a number — that's how many tidbits you're supposed to reveal about yourself. 

I never found that game enticing...
Facebook is not a very private forum (some may argue that neither is blogging, to which I say: Touché!). But I do admit to being intrigued by my FB friends' revelations. 

And that reminds me of a post I wrote back in April 2013 (part of the WEGO Health Activist's Writers Month Challenge) which was revelatory in its own unique way.

My writing prompt? Post a vintage image of myself and write a caption about it. 

Sounds simple enough; but I couldn't do it. I had nothing to say. Nothing good, anyway. I mean, how do you tell a kid she's going to get cancer? 

But I found a baby picture anyway, and as I peered into the eyes of my childhood self, many good and bad emotions washed over me (flooded me, really). And it was those feelings that morphed from merely writing a caption to framing my picture against the backdrop of my unraveling life experiences. 

It's a powerful exercise if you've never tried it. I tweaked of few of mine since my original post; see what I've come up with below. If you try the exercise, do come back and leave a link to your blog in the comments section; we'd love a glimpse of your life as seen through the rear-view mirror!

This photo was taken:

• 6 months after my siblings spun me around in my father's office chair, sending me flying into the furnace.

• 3 years before I sliced my mouth on a broken china cup while pretending to sip tea with my dolls.

• 4 years before I saw the Pieta at the New York World's Fair.

• 7 years before I developed a life-long fear of dogs after being bitten by a German Shepherd.

• 11 years before I hit the brakes while peddling my best friend's banana-seat bike, sending me flying over the handlebars — and into the hospital with a concussion.

• 14 years before I saw Anne Frank's house in person.

• 16 years before I took to the stage in summer stock theatre.

• 24 years before my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 31.

• 25 years before I moved into Manhattan.

• 26 years before I ran in my first (and hopefully not last) marathon.

• 28 years before I drove cross country on a whim.

• 33 years before I was diagnosed with Graves Disease.

• 34 years before I lived through a major earthquake, which caused me to re-access my life, reach out for support and move to a more tight-knit community.

• 41 years before 9/11 — which caused me to re- re-access my life, call it quits with my boyfriend and move closer to my family.

• 45 years before I met my husband and overcame my fear of canines.

• 47 years before my dad died.

• 48 years before I got married.

• 49 years before I became a step-grandmother.

• 50 years before I was diagnosed with breast cancer.