it’s been too long since I’ve checked in, I’m sorry. what are you feeling today? what can you hear from where you’re sitting? are you warm?
after halloween’s fanfare, november always feels more serious — gone are the painted faces, the ghouls are tucked back to rest, and the street falls quiet. I feel pulled to the windows, but something about the scene hasn’t changed in days. This body, mirroring what it sees, obscured in a layer of gray. it’s distant, but I feel you here too. I wish I could wrap a blanket across your shoulders.
when things start to slow, we cling to any comfort we can wrap our hands around. it’s as if the cold forces a shift in perspective. november’s nearsightedness. summer is full of dreaming about the weekends ahead, a projected timeline of how you’ll best spend your time. in winter, I can’t think much past finding thicker socks. on runs in the morning, I sprint into a heavy fog; patches of sidewalk appearing only once my foot’s braced for the next step.
so in the hope of tipping your face just the smallest bit upward, I wanted to ask you about who you’re hoping to be. is your aspired self louder? more honest? gentle? maybe your aspired self is slower, careful to take their time; maybe they’ve mastered how to get out of bed earlier, how it only took finding thinner curtains. do you have a full vision of who you hope to be or just bits and pieces? what are the important traits? what sits more towards the end of the list?
think about what qualities you and this future self already share. the same charming face, likely the same taste in music; maybe they still buy the same snack before their turn in the grocery check-out line. which of your aspired traits feels closest to you now? what have you been working hardest on? I’ve been thinking about how attainable my own hopeful self can be, but also how precious it is to spend time with and enjoy this current version. it’s okay, right now, that I’m still learning the basics of cooking, or that I have a habit to look up and think, even when asked easy questions. it’s okay that you are still finding the right words to describe your emotions, or maybe wanting to speak your mind or try a new talent, and feeling frustrated you can’t drag yourself to the canvas when there’s a gap between what you imagine and what your hands can do.
I know it’s hard to catch yourself—even to be proud of moments of growth or doing things differently, because it can be nerve-racking and there’s an instinct to rush through it. but I know you, I know those moments are there. if you can sit in that uncomfortable place for just a second longer, it’s worth it. understand that you are feeling unsteady ground beneath your feet, and how brave that single act is, of branching out, daring your tired legs to climb upward to the next switchback. just for a minute, stand back to admire this. how, from here, it is so much easier to be proud. the distance that shows us that life is simply little patterns of hurting and joy and waves of awe. when we hold it and realize it’s not as heavy as we imagined. the leathered tan of where we have carried pain and how soon enough, happiness made us soft again. when we look closely at this life and remember, “hm, I have done beautifully with this,” and carry on.
with love,
schuyler (sky-ler)
venmo: schuylerpeck