October 3rd, 2022

“History is a guide to navigation in perilous times,” said David McCullough. “History is who we are and why we are the way we are.”

When we think of history, we tend to think big. History of cultures, history of religion, history of cities and states and countries, history of the world, history of the universe.

Sometimes we fail to keep the histories of ourselves.

My mom was a historian. She kept things, and the things she kept were important to her, but they were also important to history. The history of family, the history of words written and actions taken, the history of herself.

I believe that hoarders are extreme historians. I do also think there are elements of addiction and mental health issues related to hoarding, but I think it starts in a place where they believe they are preserving important things, and importance is subjective; importance can be shrunk down and blown up.

Things can mean nothing and everything; the exact same thing can mean nothing to someone and everything to someone else.

We fight to live in the present, but it’s an paradoxical way of living; we are where we came from and where we’re trying to go, too, a mosaic of today’s moments, yesterday’s consequences, and tomorrow’s intentions.

We can’t remember ourselves all at once, so we need history to be complete.

Kanye disagrees, saying, “I feel like I’m too busy writing history to read it.” He ignores what Marcus Garvey thought, that “a people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots.” I agree. I think that leads to forgetting yourself. People are trapped in history and history is trapped in them, says James Baldwin.

We need to know that we were here the whole time, and that we meant something, always.

My mom took a lot with her when she left (too much, if I can be honest with you), but she left me with history, too.

And it helps me feel complete. It shows me how I’ve learned and changed; it also reveals who and what I’ve loved all along. I see that my philosophy of kindness was there in the beginning, I lost it somewhere along the way, and I’m finding it again now.

But, more than anything, it reminds me that I meant something, to her, always.

October 1st, 2022

It’s October! Did you miss me?!

Back at the beginning of September, I decided to take the month off of writing.

I needed to reset. Blow in the cartridge of my brain. I needed a break, an adjustment, and to think about what it is that I do and why I do it.

Some months I was writing an essay almost daily. That’s like a songwriter writing a song a day or a woodworker creating a birdhouse every 24 hours; they’re not all going to be good, but some will be great, a handful transcendent, and the artist learns something with each one.

Plugging my nose and submerging myself in the murky waters of philosophy has actually given me a revelation.

“Montaigne’s works were not always consistent, which he would probably have regarded as a virtue. He was engaged in a sort of dialogue with himself, which continued throughout his life.”

This quote is a distillation of both philosophy as a whole and what I’ve been doing over here all these years.

Sure, you and I have a dialogue. On our best days, we teach each other, we learn from one another, and we grow.

Most of the time, though, comment sections are wastelands, and I can’t claim mine an exception.

And so the only way I’ve been able to carry on is by recognizing this public dialogue with myself. I’ve turned this into a place where I can make a true statement, and then contradict myself and try to make that true, too.

This is how I edge the sword.

I attack and criticize the same words I share to see which ones hold up and why. This is important because other people attack and criticize my words, too, and in order for my ideas to survive, they have to be strong.

And I think that’s really why I needed the break; neither I nor the words had the strength.

But I am back like the Sanderson sisters and oh boy do we have a lot to talk about. Welcome to spooky season, everyone.