It began with a scribble in a notebook.
My past self is still in there.
I spend a lot of time to articulate the difference between the then and now.
Maybe too much time.
But a lot has changed in the past few years. And many days, I feel the tension between two versions of myself–past and present–that often begs for reconciliation. I say reconciliation, because I think my past self is here to stay, and I never want to stop listening to what she has to say.
So, I wrote a literal conversation between these two versions, and I’m thrilled that it is kicking off a blog series at my dear friend Preston’s space.
Here’s a teaser:
“You would have hated the service today,” Present Self called into the house as the shut the front door behind her, throwing her keys just past the entryway table, her poor aim condemning her to at least a ten-minute search the next time she needed them.
“Oh? And why is that?” Past Self grunted as she wrestled a jar of marinated artichoke hearts in the kitchen before offering it to Present Self along with a dishtowel to help coax it open. Artichoke hearts were her favorite.