I’m packing up the things in the attic, going through documents and files. I sort into ‘coming with me’ and ‘staying in storage’.
After a while the redistribution reveals an old writing folder. It is then I have to look at how I am sorting. What have I been doing?
The folder straddles the groups. I may not find any ideas in here that I want to work on but it may make interesting reading for it takes me on a path back to who I was. It is like wending through a forest then standing at the edge of a glade and peeping in upon my past self toiling and playing and dreaming and planning. To see oneself so far away is a curious thing. There were so many future selves and lives then. The gap between then and now is the path of the one I lived. Continue reading