A woman approached me on the pool deck. “Hi, Carol. It’s good to see you. We missed you in class today.”
She was an instructor I have seen working in the warm, small pool for babies and “the elderly” many times. Her particular class is for women of a certain age who have stiff joints. She plays loud, funky music and was toting her boom box. Class was over and I’d missed it!
I may be a woman of a certain age, but I am a lap swimmer who once upon a time was a competitive swimmer. And my joints may be stiff, but I pay no attention. I don’t take classes and I had never talked to this instructor before.
So her approach to me was weird. “I don’t take any classes,” I told her.
That startled her. “Oh my, and your name is Carol? You have a Doppelgänger. Another Carol, similar build.”
I didn’t like this story, it made me uncomfortable. Not only did this Doppelgänger look like me, she had the same name.
I don’t want a “twin” who is unrelated. But I was also intrigued, albeit eerily so. In mythology—German, Norse, Egyptian—a Doppelgänger is an evil twin and harbinger of bad luck or death. No thank you.
I stuck with my intuition and didn’t take my inquiry further. I got into the pool and had a good swim. But it got me to thinking about—of all things—where we are in the universe and how all stories, in the end, are universal stories. Not just one of me? How could that be? Unique and individual and solipsistic as we are, we are not alone in this fucked-up world of ours.
She was an instructor I have seen working in the warm, small pool for babies and “the elderly” many times. Her particular class is for women of a certain age who have stiff joints. She plays loud, funky music and was toting her boom box. Class was over and I’d missed it!
I may be a woman of a certain age, but I am a lap swimmer who once upon a time was a competitive swimmer. And my joints may be stiff, but I pay no attention. I don’t take classes and I had never talked to this instructor before.
So her approach to me was weird. “I don’t take any classes,” I told her.
That startled her. “Oh my, and your name is Carol? You have a Doppelgänger. Another Carol, similar build.”
I didn’t like this story, it made me uncomfortable. Not only did this Doppelgänger look like me, she had the same name.
I don’t want a “twin” who is unrelated. But I was also intrigued, albeit eerily so. In mythology—German, Norse, Egyptian—a Doppelgänger is an evil twin and harbinger of bad luck or death. No thank you.
I stuck with my intuition and didn’t take my inquiry further. I got into the pool and had a good swim. But it got me to thinking about—of all things—where we are in the universe and how all stories, in the end, are universal stories. Not just one of me? How could that be? Unique and individual and solipsistic as we are, we are not alone in this fucked-up world of ours.