My goal in this single short lifetime is to live as many lives as possible.

The older woman took her time approaching the counter, her gait a slow, measured shuffle. When she reached where I stood on the other side, she inquired about the restroom. While we have signs notating that ‘Restrooms are for customer use only’, I directed her to the back of the restaurant where they were located. However, she didn’t proceed on. Instead, she stared at me. After a few beats, she asked “You still getting them good shoes for free?”

Well. That was…unexpected.

You can imagine that I was immediately perplexed. I almost resorted to my go-to retort that I give when people call the store phone, inquiring about nursing home residents and chicken tikki masala: “...sir/ma’am, this is a sub shop” (and YES, I’ve actually had people call and ask about both of those things, no exaggeration). But my mind was busy trying to comprehend why she just walked into a Subway and asked if I enjoy perks on shoes. Maybe it’s because we’re just two doors down from a shoe store, and she thinks we enjoy some kind of complex-wide discount?

“Um...Pardon??”

She repeated her question word for word, as naturally as her initial inquiry about the restroom. After another second of my silence, she added, “From your momma.”

Even with as fast as the human brain works, I’d say it still took me a full second or two to make any connection to what she was asking me. And when it hit me, I formed my mouth into a distinct ‘O’, before turning up it’s corners to smile and reply, “No, we’ve traded in the shoes for sandwiches now.”

As she shuffled out, I watched her go with a clouded mind. Her comment on “good shoes from your momma” was a sly indicator of her knowledge about my family that went back years. You see, my mother used to rent out a space in our city’s flea market, where she set up a store selling shoes. This was way back in our city’s history, before the multiple major retail shops found our corner of land and dominated the industry. Then, if you needed to buy clothes, books, cosmetics and other non-food items--the flea market was where you went. And if you’d have gone when it was open between Friday and Sunday, and made your way through the wooden maze that was the inside, near the food court you’d find a quaint African woman selling shoes; as well as a wrinkled, older version of her wrangling a toddler on her hip (me) and two slightly older kids, while doubling as the cashier and store security.

The wrangler-in-question and I. (c. 2000)

“That was a lifetime ago,” I mumbled to myself. And I mean this literally; specifically, that was my lifetime ago, since my mom was operating that shoe business before I came into this world. Whatmore, that time was an entirely different life from how we live now. Absolutely unrecognizable.

And I realized that that’s exactly what I want of my life: to live many different lives that are unrecognizable from one another.

Looking back, it’s a little funny to think that I have in some ways already been leading myself down this kind of path without even meaning to. It makes me smile to reflect back on the chameleon versions of myself that the world has seen: Babysitter and Schoolteacher Etinosa in South Korea, Corporate Etinosa in Hong Kong (who also doubled as Bar-hopping Etinosa on weekends🐇), and Plant Researcher Etinosa in the Dominican Republic. I often have trouble remembering where I met someone: was it at boarding school in the US, or during my university semester in South Korea? Or maybe it wasn’t in a dorm--perhaps at a resort in the DR, or a hotel in Japan? I’ve given off ‘rich single auntie’ vibes at a 4-star hotel in Saigon, as well as ‘random broke foreigner’ at a convenience store in Tokyo (but no, not in the tacky ‘travelling beggar’ kind of way). 

I give these details only to highlight how tremendously different the seasons of my life have looked from one to the next. And I’m so glad and blessed to have been able to forge such a colorful variety of experiences so far. While the situations may not always be ideal (e.g. Tokyo is NOT the kind of city you want to be broke in😅), I keep myself grounded by maintaining perspective about my privileged position on this big blue dot, as well as looking for even the little joys that I can grasp onto and use to fuel myself onward (most recently: marveling at adorable families of geese).

And sure, stability is nice; but for my life, I hope to continue forging these varied experiences that I can later look back on and think, “Wow; how strange: that was me, my life, in this lifetime.” That’s how I can measure, for myself, if I’m living a life that’s worth living. And I can’t wait to make that measuring cup run over with all the lives I’ll pack into this one.

Thanks for reading.