I wrote myself a letter yesterday, as I do each year. Like all letters, to anyone, it is a way of keeping in touch. We don’t write enough letters, often enough; especially to ourselves.
This year I wrote a simple letter, a basic list. Two lists actually.
Beginning with a sheet of paper, I drew a thick line right down the middle of the page. On one side I scribbled down the things I felt I had accomplished over the past year.
On the other side of the paper I listed things I needed to complete, projects or concepts I had begun or given thought to, and reminders of what I still needed to do.
I’m not sure if it was disappointing, or surprising, that I have more things left undone than what I have done. It did open my eyes. I wasn’t sure, when I looked at the page, whether it was a review or a reminder. As obvious as it was that I had accomplished a few things (some kind of major, others very minor), I realized that many of the items have been hovering around for years.
I have several manuscripts in various states of undress, and poems (or skeletons thereof) that don’t quite say what I want them to say and the ambiguity itself is uncertain.
I have worthy projects to which I have only given considerable thought and some of the ideas are only, at this point, honest intentions. The list(s) themselves are, perhaps, nowhere near complete. It is what it is and I chose to make it inspirational. I thought mainly of the things I think I can do.
When the lists were as complete as my attention allowed, I took the paper and tore it down the middle.
The one side of the page, the items I listed as accomplishments, will sit on the stack of papers that seems to grow upon my desk. The other side of the letter was tucked into an envelope, sealed, stamped and addressed, and will make its way to the post office today (or tomorrow) to be mailed to myself.
When it arrives, presumably next year or next week (which, in reality, is the same thing) it will be tucked into my journal unopened.
Some day (or some year) when I am uninspired or feel I have nothing to do, I will open the letter and again review my actions (or inaction). At that time I may cross off some of the things I have done, or be reminded of what I still have to do
Don’t we all need reminders of where we are?
Shouldn’t we all acknowledge our intentions and get to work on taking an idea from concept to completion?
© 2022 j.g. lewis