An Old Soul in a Modern Body

 Sometimes I wish I had been born in a different century–one with fewer cords, outlets, and USB cables. One where it would be perfectly normal for me to wear costumey dresses all the time. Where I could see the stars when I stepped out my back door at night instead of the pinky-orange patina of light pollution. Where I could go to a store without touching a single item wrapped in plastic.

But then I remember how fond I am of hot running water. Of YouTube. Of peanut butter, washing machines, smooth roads, dishwashers, women's right to vote, and a hundred other little things. 

Wishing for impossibilities is useless. Perhaps, instead of getting to work building a time machine so I can hobnob with Jane Austen, I should work on bringing old values into my modern life. What I want from the past is its simplicity–and, okay, a hefty dash of its romance, although I doubt I'd find the actual experience of the past romantic. Or, who knows, maybe I would. 

What I really want is to slow down. Get closer to nature. Savor every moment. Be an old-fashioned soul in a modern body–and a very modern bra.