Or almost, with the last post dating from 2016.
I was reminded of this blog by a moderation email for a new comment. Visiting these pages and re-reading these thoughts brought so much back. They are still so relevant for me, but forgotten. Not really forgotten, but suppressed. Life caught me with its little worries, with its little urgencies. A deadline for work, a project for university, futilities here, futilities there. At the end of the day, too tired to write. Too tired to think. Too tired to realize I’m distancing myself from what I value.
I recently moved in with my girlfriend. We bought a bed with four drawers under it, so that we can keep some stuff which we don’t use very often away from sight. The result? Most of the possessions are there not because we don’t use them very often, but because we don’t know what to do with them. “What do we do with these shoes?” “Hmm, not sure. Just put it under the bed.” “What do we do with these boxes?” “Just put it under the bed!” Instead of properly thinking about what should be done (perhaps donate the clothes and throw away the boxes?), we just put them all under the bed.
I have done the same with my thoughts. As seemingly more important commitments started to consume my time, I started putting thoughts away, deferring them. They crossed my mind often but I didn’t have time for them. I didn’t have time to properly examine them, to dialogue with myself and with books. Perhaps I had the time, but lacked the maturity. Probably. Probably I still lack it.
Six years is a long time. In six years a newborn learns to walk, to talk, some even to read. Adolescents go through their entire high school, and some even through university. Grown-ups change jobs, change cities, change aspirations. Parents become grandparents, grandparents become memories.
But people also move backwards. Some relapse into bad past habits. Some break ties with family members or friends. Some make empty promises of change, only to fool themselves and others that there is movement, that there is progress in their lives. Some get caught in the little concerns and the little urgencies of life.
Six years is a long time. I wonder where I would be if I had dedicated enough attention to my thoughts during all this time. Perhaps I would have followed a different career. Perhaps I would already have some of the answers I still look for. Perhaps I would have found inner peace.
Well, perhaps it’s time to open the drawers again.
The Nemo Writer 