In a recent letter, I mentioned returning to a prose poem I wrote at the end of 2019. I wanted to share it closer to the New Year, but better late than never, I suppose. The decade was coming to a close, and I needed to release all the pain and sorrow I’d been through. I wrote this poem, which was initially longer and more depressing. But that version felt like wallowing. This one feels more like remembering and letting go.
I was hopeful when 2019 came to a close. I think a lot of us were. And then came the Australian wildfires that would kick off years of universal dread. Reading this poem again, though, I realize I exist in a constant cycle of hope and dread. I’m trying to be less rigid in my thinking. I’m trying to simply be. More on that coming in this weekends letter. Until then, I hope you enjoy this look back at my 2010s.
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