We were talking the other night, about what we’d do if we could turn back the calendar and ‘do it all over again’, and once the joking got out of the way, it set me to some fairly seriously thinking.

What would I do? Well, presupposing I could retain whatever bits of wisdom and smarts I’ve picked up along the way . . . I’d begin at a far younger age to do what I want, rather than what others wanted me to do

The trouble is, it’s not only hard to unearth such things, but much pain, guilt, resentment . . . and forgiveness . . . must come before we can live our lives as we want, and not forever be trying to please another. No matter how loved or even how long dead. Which is often the most difficult of the two

I wouldn’t smoke. It was thought cool to do so when I was a certain age, and it took me some time to realize that, in the first place, I didn’t like to smoke, and secondly, I found that those who did smoke, weren’t cool anyway. So I stopped.

I wouldn’t be so serious the second time round, would have more fun along the way, and I’d remember that I wasn’t responsible for the actions of anyone else, bur me. And, again, it didn’t matter how much I loved them, either.

I’d go barefoot in the grass and sand more often, and I’d never again wear a firmly set of hair style, but let it fly freely in the wind. And, I’d wear long flowing skirts which would whirl as I turned, and I’d turn a lot.

And when children arrived, I’d take more time to be a kid with them. Yes, there comes a time when that’s all over with, but until that time, I’d prowl the fields and pasture with them, getting down on my knees to discover the toads, frogs, bees and all the other things they once found and brought home to me.

I’d have more picnics . . . if only peanut butter and jam sandwiches . . and listen to the birds, crickets, and other sounds we only hear when we really listen.

I’d love a lot more and let more people know that I love them. And if you think I”m talking about sex here, well , you’ve got an awful lot to learn, but we’ll go into that some other day.

I’d be more open to changes that come with life, and not spend months, sometimes years, trying to make everything be ‘like it used to be’ . For, if changes didn’t come, I’d still be . . . well,   enuf of that, I’m just glad changes came.

Oh, and I hope I’d remember that the teen years are simply a phase and not the end of the world. I’d remember that there are always a few golden youths at that age that we all wanted to be like, yet . . . we found out later the golden aura didn’t always carry over into adult hood, and I wouldn’t change my life for a million.

I wouldn’t take marriage so seriously. Now, I don’t mean I’d be out on the town, but I’d remember that marriage is simply two people who happen to like each other a lot, and are trying to live together in very close quarters. It’s the only ‘war’ where you sleep with the ‘enemy’ and a little laughter and light hearted banter helps a whole lot.

I’d quit worrying over ‘what others might think’. What do I care what they think?   That’s their problem and, I’ve found, as I have gone ahead in my own way, others have found it to be not a bad way , either.

I ‘d remember that every situation, good or bad, that comes with my karma, and it’s my reaction to those situations, (what I do, how I act), that is putting my next set of karma in place.

I’d grow more flowers and fewer vegetables. Oh, I know we must have food, (and I like it, too) but the soul needs food, too and so I’d have a lot more flowers and would take the time to smell them as well.

And I’d remember, oh, I hope I’d remember, how once Ann and Jack Larkin and Brad and I, happily and light heartily sat on the deep curb up in Jackson Hole, along with a couple of others, and watched a big slice of the world go by. And next time, by golly, I’d sit on more curbs and . . . perhaps ‘d be lucky and have Ann, Jack and Brad there with me.

Yes, there are quite a few things I’d like to do over again. Oh, me, oh me, oh my . Wanna join me???????