letter #21
If I’d made any new year resolutions they’d be broken by now. No, broken isn’t the right word—that implies an active relationship with the resolution. They wouldn’t even be neglected. If I’d made any new year resolutions, by now they’d be forgotten. The only way I’d remember I’d even made them would be if I happened one day to be flicking through the journal where I would have written it down on the second of January (having failed to start my new diary on the first), drawn a cloud border around it so it stands out, then told myself how great I was feeling about it. (There’s a lot of conditional tenses in that sentence, sorry if it’s too much mental gymnastics for a Sunday evening).
I guess following that logic, maybe I did make one or even two?
I do remember people talking about resolutions. I know that rather than resolutions some people set intentions, or find a word that they can use to shape their year. I do like the sound of that, but I couldn’t do it. I mean one word? For a whole year?
But if you are a person who made a resolution or set an intention, I hope that it’s got you off to a good start. And of course if you aren’t a person who made a resolution or set an intention I hope that your year has been off to a good start too.
Is it February tomorrow? I don’t mean that in a, ‘Goodness where does the time go?’ kind of way. I mean, ‘Actually, is it?’ This past year has shifted my conception of time, and I have no intuitive sense of where I am. Every morning when I wake up, I have to consciously place myself, reminding myself about things that have already happened, things that are going to happen. Maybe because I’ve been working on my new fringe show (gratuitous link) plus some chapters of a written work this process seems to run deep. Almost as if each morning I remind myself of the stages of my life I’ve already lived, running through them like a film. If it’s true that you can talk to yourself at 4,000 words per minute then I could get through a fair bit of life story while I’m working out where I am.
As always, I don’t have any amazing conclusions to be drawn or any particular insights that I think will change your life. Mostly, I just wanted to say hello, and I hope you’re doing okay.
Sending every love, Tracy xx
PS If you are the kind of person who notices such things then you will have noticed that I’ve shifted this newsletter from tinyletter over to substack. I did love tinyletter, but it’s glitchy and things get stuck too often. I’d like to think I’m going to write more often this year. I’m missing online conversations. Facebook—which killed blogging as conversation but never quite managed to replicate its texture—is less and less conversational all the time and I never seem to see the things I want to see until it’s too late. But I haven’t sent one of these newsletters since last July, so I’m not falling into the trap of resolving to send one every month/fortnight/week. I’m sure as ever it will remain sporadic; infrequent and irregular.
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