Monday, December 15, 2014

Small wonders

So, at this fab party I went to this past weekend, it just so happened that one of the guests was a woman who used to hang out at the house where I lived my first few years, a place which we (all of us who ever knew it) all affectionately still call by its street name (and in fact one of the sometime residents of the upstairs apartment actually named her son after that street), and this woman, of whom I had no memory at all, remembered me as a baby, a toddler, a tiny girl of two. There was a story about my name that went along with it, involving children and dogs, of course. She was a vibrant woman, happily married to a handsome man, and I do wish I remembered her name...There were a lot of "those kind" of people there that night--successful, healthy, good-looking, seemingly sane and intelligent, amiable, a bit weird, etc.--and, being younger than most of them, it was nice to meet a few positive role models. Quite refreshing.

Oh yes, I remember now...

For some reason I looked back at some old writing today, and found something kind of wonderful that I had completely forgotten. Actually, that's not unusual, and is maybe the biggest reason that I continue to write here, of even the most mundane things, in the least eloquent ways... I find, when I revisit those old words, that they weave a tapestry of memory which is frequently far more beautiful, and more complex, than anything I am able to recall, in the dusty recesses of my mind (to steal a phrase). Words of my own, from years ago, are a time capsule of sorts, a message in a bottle to my future self, a love letter sent to someone I will never meet... 

Among the surprises today was a comment from someone who I do not know, but whose fine praise lifted my flagging spirit, all these many years later:  
Your writing is beautiful, stunning, and luminous. My god. I don't have [time] at the moment to read all your posts but rest assured I will.
Serendipitously perhaps, this stranger had arrived here in search of a certain variety of corn that I had been excited to grow.  Little do we know, sometimes, little do we know.

I'm still excited to grow. Sometimes I forget that the past isn't something we leave behind, it's something we carry forward.

With gratitude.


Anonymous said...

I second the comment. I think I left a similar one a few years ago. If words of encouragement have meaning to you, keep it up, keep at it, you're good you're really good.

fremenine said...

They do, and thank you!