It’s December which means the year is nearly over. As humans often do when something is coming to an end, I’ve been looking back and reflecting on this year. I watched a video from a girl who makes a monthly video blog series called little moments, and in this specific episode she was discussing how her months look the same from one to the next. However, if you were to compare January to October, they would be drastically different. She said, although big changes are scary it’s the little ones we need to watch out for. That if you aren’t careful you could sit down to reflect on the time and not even recognize your own life anymore.
That struck a chord with me. As we’re all well aware this last year has been shaky at best for many reason. For me specifically, recently we’ve spoken about how it feels like I’m just watching my life pass by and not able to do anything about it. Regardless if that’s something I can actually change or not, it’s scary to think about. All of these little changes happening around me and no one takes notice. I hope that, by this time next year, I’m not reflecting on the year wondering how I ever let my life get so far away from me.
I’ve been looking back on my writing. Specifically my poetry. And applying the same ideas we spoke of before, I’ve seen how it’s progressed.
When I first started writing I was about thirteen, writing poems about love that I had never experienced. They were awful. All through high school they were the same. Poorly rhymed with even worse timing. I remember thinking they were good when I was that age because they were the best I had ever created. I also can tell you that everytime I write a poem now, I look back on those poems knowing they are objectively terrible. I always worry with what I write that I will look back on these current works in years to come and think they’re also objectively terrible. I wonder if that ever stops?
In my time of reflection I decided it would be a good chance to go back and read the poems I’ve written to see how they’ve changed. The same way that days and months might look the same sitting side by side, so do these poems. The style and voice of these poems hold many similarities from one to the next but if you compare poetry I wrote a year ago to something I wrote this month, you might not be able to tell the same person wrote it. For that I am thankful. At this point, I don’t think my poetry from last year is bad but I can recognize it is certainly not the best.
However, when I read my poetry from this year I feel a sense of pride. Knowing where I came from and my growth potential. I don’t look at these poems with shame even though whenever I write one I recognize the possibility for them to be seen as terrible. That’s what I’m thankful for today.
I’m thankful that even though I haven’t been as attentive to the little changes, whether that be in my life or in my writing, I am not disappointed in where I am. I can only hope next year I will feel the same.