Lately I’ve been poking through some things I’ve written over the years, and something occurs to me: in my writing, I don’t “sound like me.” Some of that is that Now is different than Back Then - some of the things I’ve been reading are nearly a decade old at this point and a lot can change in 10 years - but I don’t think that’s entirely it. It’s…almost like becoming a different person? A reader who has read my other writings might say “this sounds like something Cliff might write”, but I doubt very much that they’d say “this sounds like Cliff”. That is certainly the case for myself when reading my own work.
I also think a younger version of myself might be embarrassed - “Geez, I wrote this?” - and I’ll admit to coming across some of that, but infrequently. Now, I may have changed my mind over time, or might have a chuckle at my own expense for my own naivety…but, embarrassed? Nah.
I’m glad I’ve held onto some of those old writings. Frankly wish I would’ve published a substantial number of them more broadly - both for my own benefit, as well as for others’. Posterity, and all that.
There’s an old chestnut about procrastination (among other things): “The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second-best time is Right Now.” There’s another about community contribution, fostering growth, etc. that says something along the lines of “planting trees in the shade of which you’ll never sit.” There’s probably some third thing I can’t recall, but I guess my Grand Unified Theory of Tree-Planting would suggest:
Go Forth. Plant Trees.