Like BlogHer CE
Zandria, I'm preparing to move. Way back in January
I vowed I was on a mission. October is here and I am
finally
actually moving. Part of my mission involved getting around to
unpacking boxes I have moved around the country with me for years. And
going through my boxes is like an epic episode of
This Is Your Life.
In
opening up and going through the boxes I'm finding bits and pieces of
my past through many life stages. Without intentionally creating a time
capsule, glimpses of the random ephemera of my life feels like I did.
I
look different but, hairstyles, fashion and fluctuating weight aside,
much the same and always like me. Like many women I look at pictures of
my younger self and think "I look hot!" and wonder why I couldn't see
it and only heard the voices disparaging my body and could not hear
those who celebrated my appearance. I'm especially saddened when I
remember the gulf between what I saw in the mirror and what I can now
see. I wonder how much I'm still looking in a funhouse mirror.
I
see that I've always had an urge to journal but have never been able to
maintain a commitment to the practice. I can tell that by the number of
journals I've found with only a fraction of the early pages written
upon. What I hope is that I've managed to find some peace and optimism
that I clearly could not in my angst ridden youth. I had forgotten that
at age 12 I was the editor for my school's poetry and art journal.
However, I had not forgotten that I wrote some really dark poetry in
those days. Still I cringed when I read my "published" works. I
discovered that by the time I advanced to college level classes my
oeuvre of poetry along with the addition of song lyrics graduated from
dark musings on the human condition to sharply bitter musings on
ex-boyfriends. Perhaps if I had kept at it I could have given Alanis
Morissette a run for her
bitter ex-girlfriend crown.
Another
important self discovery is that there are certain lessons I still need
to learn. Ones that I found (and had forgotten) I have tried (and
failed) in the past and are now coming up again. Hopefully I am making
progress and there will not be a next time of this kind of discovery.
Not
all my discoveries are cringe-worthy, though. I am delighting in
finding and reading the postcards friends have sent me from their
travels from around the country and the globe. Remember postcards? I
also am reminded that I am so fortunate to have been surrounded by the
love of friends and family like on my 30th birthday when I came across
a large stack of cards full of well wishes from that occasion. On the
side of bittersweet, I've found letters from friends who died far too
young but whom I'm grateful to be reminded of the fortune of having had
their too brief presence in my life.
I could easily go back to
school (and as I dig I'm reminded of just how many years I've spent on
book learning) for nothing but the cost of time. I have the voluminous
binders of information from every class I took in business school. I
have all my materials from the aforementioned poetry (and, classmates,
I'm so very sorry) class. I have assignments and equipment from when I
dipped my toe in the waters of interior design. I might have exorcised
most of my political science materials. However I am delighted that I
managed to hang on to my "
Little Red Schoolhouse" binder from my Ph.D. days.
Although
I no longer actively collect things, I have found that I could easily
build well-illustrated shrines to Bruce Springsteen and Chihuahuas.
Don't judge - we all have our skeleton-filled closets that create our
unique charm.
My family history is also illuminated through my
excavations. I've found notes from and articles about relatives who've
passed on. The Kwanzaa cards remind me that we used to celebrate much
more and now has tapered off almost completely. I've discovered
keepsakes that remind me of the ambition and success of my sister. I've
found evidence of how my family has flown around the country to come
spend time with me when I've moved far from home. And I've found
markers that remind me of the ways in which my parents have been there
to support me, each in their own way, when I've gone through big
transitions of life.
Most of all I am loving discovering the
different versions of me: shy schoolgirl, book-loving nerd, fledgling
political activist, emerging feminist, punk rocker, scorned lover,
performance artist, junior executive, graduate (and graduate, and
graduate, and graduate...), dream and goal achiever, and ordinary human
being with troubles, tragedies and triumphs. Hi, Maria, nice to meet
you.
Have you ever taken a trip back in time through your life?
What did you find? Did anything sadden, surprise or delight you? What
would you set aside now for future you to discover and be reminded of?
Recent Comments