During a recent
visit to my parents, I took the opportunity to explore my old desk. This desk
has a certain secret compartment, almost impossible to see...but if you know
where it is, you can open it by feel. After opening it and smelling that
wonderful aged wood scent - a jumble of folded papers fell out. They were old
journal entries I wrote back when...well, you'll see. But upon reading, a
simultaneous lightness and heaviness settled on me. The problems in my past
were so short-sighted and almost funny...yet upon sobering reflection, not so
different than those of today. It seemed like my past self was there, pouring
his heart out, and that we connected through time. Maybe that's weird, but I
thought I'd share, in hope that you might also empathize and find value in
these questions and doubts.
