Inner Child and an Old Fart Walk Into a Bar: Freudian slips in a puddle of Jung!

The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.
Carl Jung 

It is impossible to overlook the extent to which civilization is built upon a renunciation of instinct.
Sigmund Freud

One must ask children and birds how cherries and strawberries taste. 
Goethe

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Dammit.  I was on vacation.  Or, as my ex-husband once said to me, "I don't want to evolve!"  But, like it or not - and when you least expect it - the universe will smack you upside the head and remind you to pay attention.  It's a good thing, really.

So, Kimmy Sue walks into a bar.  That's my inner child, by the way, in case you hadn't figured that out.  The whole of my existence (and yours too, if you're honest with yourself) is the outward journey through life struggling between growing up and moving forward, all the while reaching back to grab the hand of the divine child that fears it has been sentenced to a permanent time out for no good reason.

Oops...back to the bar.  Kimmy Sue is ready for a good beer and some good music, supported in full by a grown ass woman named Ruby Lou.  Yeah, she is my dark chocolate, no nonsense reminder that I must keep it real.  This means inner child is gainfully employed and in charge. 

So I'm at the bar, when a very articulate and handsome man starts chatting me up.  How cool is that?  I left my glasses at home, however, because apparently he was old enough to be my father...in certain areas of South Carolina, and pretty much the entire state of Alabama.  More importantly, in his mind.  And, apparently, he left his glasses at home too.  Somehow, he saw a hot red head who might actually be old enough for him.  As in, sometimes miracles occur and a woman who looks 40 something might actually be 60.  Woo hoo!  How lucky can you get?

This is the point where I have to accept that regardless of age and education, men are stupid.  It's okay.  They're allowed.  Women are stupid too.  Actually, people are stupid.  And that's why we're here folks...to get UNstupid.  It's the point of this whole blog, in case you're missing that. 

Which is entirely possible, given my non sequitur inclinations. 

So.  Handsome, articulate old fart...same bar.  A few weeks,  and one damned good minute later, he tells me I'm too young for him.  Wow.  For a not-so-damned good minute, I was offended.  I'm pushing 50 for crying out loud, but I guess I should just feel flattered.  Most women are concerned about being too old.  Anyway, the words "chastened" and "scolded" came to mind.  And then it hit me.  Oh, here we go again...the "daddy" connection.  Seriously, if a man crosses my path and shows an interest in me, the common evolutionary denominator is always the father.  On both sides of the fence, mind you.

Yep, the universe really smacked me upside the head this time, but fortunately I have made great progress with my inner child.   This time, Kimmy Sue thwarted a knee-jerk reaction to go stand in a corner somewhere and said what any strong-willed southern girl would say when challenged in such a manner:  Awwwwwwwwwwwww...hell naw! 

The most important sign of progress, for me, is that I was not a victim this time.  He was a real nice daddy. 

(On the off chance that I'm not making sense - yes, I'm laughing too - what I'm pointing out is the importance of paying attention to what you attract.  More specifically, the common denominator.  It is the key to unlocking those trap doors and giving yourself permission to come out and play.)

I AM too young...and it's about damned time.  I hope I'm too young for the rest of my life.

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