To an older and hopefully wiser me,
This extended period of isolation has enabled me, or perhaps more aptly forced me, to reflect deeply on particular aspects of my identity which I previously would have considered as immutable. As this letter will be posted publicly I won’t go into the details, but we both know what I’m talking about. I dream of the day where I can accept myself and be enjoy being me, and I hope the discomfort I feel in my own body is nothing more than an unpleasant memory. I’m kind of envious of you, where all of this massive burden and uncertainty are a part of your past, rather than a lived reality.
On a less heavy note, I’ve been able to make good on my promises to myself to improve my cooking skills, and I hope they’ve served you well. Cooking is finally something more than just a chore to me so even in these tough times I’ve been managing to eat somewhat healthy and appetizing meals. Let that be a reminder for when you’re feeling limited by the ingredients in your pantry because you’ve been too lazy to go to the store and just want to order takeout. Whether you went into computer science, teaching, or even researching math at a university, I hope that your career is pleasant enough that cooking can at worst be a refreshing break, rather than an unbearable chore you can’t muster the energy for.
Also, as a final note, don’t forget that things could always be worse. I mean this in the sense of preserving a strong sense of empathy for those you meet, where you can’t possibly know what they have to go through every day. I also mean this in the sense that it’s remarkably unpleasant to wake up to a backed up sewage tank. Do you still remember that? I still remember that (because it happened today.)
From,
You in April 2020