“A good reader, a major reader, an active and creative reader is a rereader.” — Vladimir Nabokov
I’m re-listening now to the mix I made for my 30th birthday, procrastinating on some tasks I’m pretty far behind on, and looking towards the bottom of my sort-by-date documents. In addition to some anal-retentive budget documents (what would the 25-year-old Me say about my current state of financial affairs, $1,000 rent, and student loans?!), I found this, which was probably written just before I began writing on this blog:
2 0 0 6
This year I’ve learned that my mind and body are connected, and it does make a difference what I put into my body. I’ve learned that moving on doesn’t equate getting over. I’ve learned that I have much to learn from other people (people who aren’t necessarily teaching) and that they can learn something from me, too. I’ve learned that sometimes the foundational relationships you build your life around can have deep cracks between them. I learned there are six of us. I’ve learned that bad situations can pay off, and sticking with it is good. So is getting out. I’ve learned that even mean people sometimes have very fragile feelings. I’ve learned that there is some black and white, but mostly gray, and that most truth is a construct. I’ve learned that breathing is more complicated than it seems. I’ve learned that you can inhabit a place without ever really living in it. I’ve learned that living alone is lonely. I’ve learned that even adult siblings are childish sometimes. I’ve learned that it takes more than finding recipes to make good food (but it is possible to make good food). I’ve learned never to speculate on the size of a man’s penis until I’ve seen it, especially not openly to the man in question. I’ve learned that I don’t want to date a musician whose music doesn’t impress me. I’ve learned that some friends are a constant presence, but aren’t on the same page. I’ve learned that other friends, without constant attention, can pick up where we started. I’ve learned that ignoring directions doesn’t mean they’ll go away. I’ve learned that black drip coffee on an empty stomach is no good. I’ve learned that loose-leaf tea is pretty heavenly, and that there is a difference between San Pellegrino and the store brands. I’ve learned that if I don’t like the way I look, I can do something about it. I’ve learned that even the most admirable couples have their problems. I’ve learned (possibly) what I want to do with my life, and it’s nothing I could have predicted. I’ve learned that someday I want to be a mother. I’ve learned to end things that aren’t working. I’m beginning to learn to take my dad’s advice on relationships when he offers it. I’ve learned to cook beets. I have learned how to jumpstart a car. I’ve learned that I, too, can create a simple web page. I’ve learned the importance of a good moisturizer. I’ve learned that, while I like the idea of letting it grow free, I prefer to shave the hair on my legs and underarms. I’ve learned that the patient-therapist relationship matters a lot. I’ve learned that my therapist is the person I’m closest to. I’ve learned that there’s power in being just a little smaller. I’ve learned that 6 isn’t miniscule.
I have no idea what this “6” is about. Really, I don’t.
Here’s a challenge for any of you who might still be reading this. If you knew my full name, what I’m currently studying, where I am, and where I’m from, would you be able to find this blog on a search engine? I’d love to know… My desire for anonymity is one of the major factors of my no longer writing (in addition to graduate school taking a big portion of my soul). I’m concerned someone I see professionally could find this and know… well, the things I learned six years ago, among other things. So: if you read this, please search and report!