I’ve been rummaging through drawers and closets -- sorting, tossing, donating . . . purging unnecessary possessions. It’s a good feeling; getting rid of clutter. But oh my goodness, the things one can find on such a mission.
For example, I recently discovered a long-forgotten diary of mine from 1972-1973. I was around 12 years old at the time. Over fifty years. That’s how long it had been since I had opened this book. There wasn’t a lot written in it. (The serious journaling bug didn’t bite until I was in my 20s.) So it didn’t take me long to sit down and read through it all. Each entry brought back a memory that I hadn’t thought of in half a century. In that brief sojourn, seeing myself through my 12-year-old eyes, I became reacquainted with a part of my adolescence. Insightful, to say the least.
This was my favorite line in the diary: “July 10, 1972. Dear Diary, I didn’t do much but I had a good time.”
Yes, that is so utterly me. My best days are the days that are quiet and unstructured, simple and carefree, spontaneous and open to anything. Or nothing. In that respect, I haven’t changed much over the years.
This is me at that age, with one of my best childhood friends, at one of my all-time favorite places, Swallow Falls State Park, Maryland. Throughout my childhood, we camped there so often, I feel like it was my second home. I grew up there.
When I was young, I never thought much about introverts and extroverts, and didn’t identify as an introvert until much later in life. But looking back, I had that lone, quiet nature even then. I wasn’t very outgoing in school, didn’t join many clubs, and had just a small circle of close friends. Most everything I enjoyed doing, I liked doing alone – reading, listening to music, walking in nature, picking blackberries and coming home to bake a Roly-Poly.
photo from nanciemcdermott.com
How about you? What have you held onto through the years that can take you back and remind you of that bud of a person who bloomed into who you are today?
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