> CD #124: The past is present
When last we met, I joked about this newsletter possibly going from biweekly to monthly, but that was three months ago, so I guess there is no schedule anymore? Thank you for sticking with me and trusting that I’ll write when I have something to say. And to new subscribers, apologies in advance. I won’t be offended if you reconsider, lol.
Spring was a swirl of book promo and travel and work and driving kids around and doing whatever it is I do. I remember a lot of laundry, a bit of travel anxiety, some rain. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve processed it all yet, and I keep forgetting it’s July.
Does anyone else feel like time has started to collapse? Maybe it’s only me because I keep folding the timeline over onto itself by dragging things from my past back into the present.
A couple months ago, I discovered a tiny hole in one of my favourite t-shirts and panicked because it was a concert tee from the 2017 U2 Joshua Tree anniversary tour and not easily replaceable. After digging through dozens of eBay listings, though, I managed to find someone selling one in my size that was pretty much brand new.
Side dilemma: Which U2 shirt do you think I should wear regularly now? The one with the hole because it is already compromised? Or should I put it away because it has sentimental value, since it’s the shirt I bought at the concert? Should I then wear the new one, which I care less about? But if I wear the new t-shirt, I might get the same tiny hole in it because I am bad at laundry, or life, or both. But then preserving the new shirt seems silly because it isn’t attached to any special memory of going to a concert with my brother and cousin, watching U2 perform the entire Joshua Tree album straight through, and then walking around Vancouver at midnight, high on nostalgia and The Edge’s guitar riffs. Should I get a third shirt as a pre-emptive replacement for the second shirt while I still know where to find one? 😭
(Sorry, I don’t know what is wrong with me. Hopefully they’re developing a medication for it.)
Anyway, a few weeks ago, I also noticed that my black linen skirt, the one that I feature in the welcome email for this newsletter and have been wearing regularly for 13 years, has begun disintegrating (as I’m told linen does) and will likely be threadbare in spots very soon.
Again, with a bit of expert manoeuvring online, I found a gently used version of the discontinued skirt on Poshmark. It wasn’t easy because I had to scan through tons of listings for “Wilfred black linen skirt,” but on the fifth page of results, there it was, in my size, for $30. I even learned that it was called the “Narrateur” skirt, which feels meaningful to me, a writer, even though it has nothing to do with anything. Score!
On Monday, I also signed papers to return to my former job, which I’d left last year for a new opportunity. I go back in a few weeks. So yeah, I have not left the past behind. It is all very much present.
Last night, while I was thinking about the shirt, the skirt, and my job, I worried that there might be something off in the choices I’ve been making. Have I fallen into some sort of twisted MAGA-style belief that life was better in a mythical past? Is all of this an overreaction to the chaos of the present? Maybe a mini midlife crisis?
But after putting it through the smell test, I feel ok about what I’m doing. Because I’m not seeking comfort in going back to something familiar. Instead, it feels like I’m drawing from the past to determine what I want for the future.
The skirt, for example: I want to buy clothes that I know will last 13 years, clothes I won’t get sick of. And the t-shirt reminds me that I want to see live music with people I love, and to do things worth commemorating with merch.
The job, which looks on the outside like the biggest step back, is also a way forward into what I hope will be a more manageable pace (I’ll be working part-time) and better work-life balance. I want to prioritize my physical and mental health, and also (fingers crossed) have some time to focus on my next book project.
Kierkegaard wrote that life could only be understood backwards but must be lived forwards, so humans were pretty much hopeless, haha. Maybe, by bending time just a little, I can prove him wrong?
:) Teresa
What is happening even?? Closet Dispatch is a free, limited-run, randomly scheduled newsletter by Teresa Wong.
It is lovely to see you in my In box again, Teresa. You are welcome anytime you want to write! My own ostensibly monthly-ish newsletter hasn't had an update in 4 months but I'm working on something now so maybe yours will inspire me to just get the dang thing out. All this to say YES to time collapsing. I unfortunately am also dealing with my father's slide into dementia which is its own crazymaking ride of not-fun-house mirror distortion.
Plus we're re-flooring and re-painting our house which means boxing up all the books in the bookshelves as well as all the stuff in the nooks and crannies of the closets and stashing them in the garage or a POD in the driveway. Touching all the mementos and objects and books triggers memories but there's not a lot of time to sort through them at present so into the boxes they go. Nostalgia is a weird thing. There's something telling that the shirt you replaced is from a tour that was also a nostalgia tour. Are we getting nostalgia for our nostalgia? My head hurts—maybe time for a nap.