Another year has come and gone and I am still surprised to say it has. In revisiting old issues, I find the same thing is true that was last year: I am embarrassed by who I was and am grateful to have moved on from that place while feeling like I’ve gone nowhere at all.
Writing this newsletter every week is, I’ve discovered over the last year, primarily an exercise in self-compassion. Though that was not the intent when I started writing, it is a skill I’ve had to develop in order to keep on doing so. While writing last year’s birthday celebration, I remember cringing all the way through the archive looking for specific links to previous pieces I wanted to mention. Issues that I thought were well-written or interesting or insightful when I wrote them originally felt flat, under-analyzed, and under-proofed when I reread them separated by the kaleidoscope of time. I felt sorry for the person I was when I wrote the issues and embarrassed for my current self, whose name is still tied to them, though my perspective has shifted and my abilities have continued to evolve.
For weeks after reflecting upon the first birthday of this newsletter, I struggled to put together anything I thought was worth reading, or, perhaps more importantly, worth writing. In the wake of discovering a fresh disappointment in myself and my abilities, I didn’t know how to create something I could be proud of, and what was the point, I reasoned, in writing something if it wouldn’t stand the test of time?
Instead of writing for who I may become, I have been trying to consciously shift my focus to writing for who I am today. If who I am tomorrow is entirely different, then I will be grateful for the documentation of who I once was. Although the words may be permanent on the page, the voice behind them is ever-changing and there will always be more words with which I might one day amend the ones I put down today, should I find that these ideas no longer fit me. And still, if what I’ve written here one day no longer serves me or reflects who I think I’ve become, someday, someone else might need the revelations I had at 24, or 25, or 26. Someday, someone else might see themself in the words that a previous version of me put down.
And so although the words I put down today might not always reflect who I am and who I will be, they will always reflect who I was. I was trying to make a mirror, when what I was really making was a map. Not the kind that tells you where to go, but where you’ve been. If I allow myself to dream, I might hope that following my map helps you to navigate your own journey, should we come to similar passes. We all have our own maps to draw, but maybe in mine you see a similarity to your own. Even if our maps never converge, I will one day have at my fingertips the cartography of who and where I’ve been, and perhaps the tangible evidence of my journey will have been enough.
Thank you for giving me a place to draw my map. Whether you’ve been here for two years or two weeks, know that I wouldn’t be able to put these words together every Friday if not for you. I thank you for not only allowing me to be myself in the only way I know how but for encouraging it, week after week. Live, laugh, love ya.
narcissus in the weeds
I am only one but there are so
many versions of me in existence
it’s hard to know which is the real one
the one you see
or the one I do
every mirror is like a disco ball
refracting a thousand tiny images
back at me, each one myself
each one different from the last
if everything was not the same
I keep rereading the same
three things I love over and over
and wondering why I didn’t come up
with them first why didn’t I think
of that metaphor why didn’t I live
the life you lived and write about it why
didn’t I do everything or anything
differently
will I ever do the digital detox I’ve been talking about
I keep telling myself I’m taking
a break from social media
and then opening all of the same apps
and enjoying none of them
I tell you I’m thinking about deleting
my account again like I did last
time my fingertips couldn’t bear
the weight of having the
whole world within reach
but then made a new one when
they started to itch again for a world
beyond my own walls
the grass is growing now
maybe I should touch it for once
I want to take one final opportunity to thank you for reading, subscribing, liking, commenting, sharing, replying — all of the things you do that let me know I’m not simply shouting into the void every week. I appreciate you and your gracious support.
On Monday, we’ll be wishing the paid tier a happy first birthday, sort of like an extension to today’s celebration. Keep the party going all weekend long.