“I want to stick my net into time and say ‘now’ as men plant flags on the ice and snow and say ‘here’.” – Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.
Last week, to say that, “I am here,” was non-existant. I can’t pinpoint you anything on latitude and longitude or really, pinpoint to you at all what last week was like. I’ve been retyping this post trying to find the right metaphor to hide behind, but there’s no other way to say it: having anxiety is shitty. Being someone who is moved by others and simultaneously being too afraid to get out of bed is shitty. Staying home all day and not being able to find rest is shitty. Pretending not to care about things or saying you’re sick instead of telling people what’s actually going on is shitty. Feeling like you’re going to lose everything for no reason at all is shitty.
But on Thursday, I woke up for the first time in what felt like an eternity with zero anxiety. I texted Grace, “LIFE IS SO BEAUTIFUL,” and got a nose piercing, because why the hell not? To say that, “I am here,” right now, means I want to plant my flags in everything. My camera feels insufficient. My pen and journal are futile devices. My hands can’t hold enough. There are so many moments I just want to make permanent. I’m currently living in the pages of Letters to a Young Poet by Rilke, which was recommended to me by someone who’s taste I always hold close to my heart. He writes: “Believe in a love that has been stored up for you like an inheritance.” And that is what I want to do – store up everything around me that I love like it will waterfall into other things later. I want to believe in a love that has been created in this way for me.
So, with that being said, here are some pieces of my inheritance that I have stored up for the past few months: