Yesterday, I went through the dresser, getting rid of old things that I don't wear, or that are worn out, etc. I pulled out a bright purple scarf, all gauzy and shot through with swirls of gold, and it made me smile. The first time I saw it, I thought of the word 'magic', and yesterday, I thought the word again.
"When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple". The words to that poem popped into my mind, even though I am not yet an old woman, even though I have never worn the purple scarf.
I drape it over my long sleeved black tee-shirt, and I study my reflection in the mirror. The effect was quite good, and I waffled a little, whether to keep it or throw it away, because really, I never wear bright colors, and for the first time it occurs to me to wonder why. And then it suddenly pops into my head that the voice that I have been listening to all these years is not my own.
I return to the task of sorting and discarding. I leave the scarf across my shoulders and I think about that.