I’ve been looking over the posts from the last year, and although my intention was to use a title for a post only once, it appears that I accidentally reused at least the word comfortable. Which was the subject of both #56 about life and #242 about clothes.
I find this mistake interesting.
The word comfortable also appears in a number of posts: #55, #56, #139, #159, #242, #253, #265, #352, and #353. And now #361.
I was hoping this project would make me more comfortable with myself. And it did. I can talk about myself now, which at the end of 2014 was impossible.
But I’m a private person. This year didn’t change that.
Cheryl Strayed wrote,
And part of the work is about getting comfortable being uncomfortable, learning how to say, “Hello, fear, thank you for being here, because you are my indication that I’m doing what I need to do.”
In post 265, I wrote this:
So I’m down to the last hundred posts in this year of catching me–this year of looking at the photos, digging up memories, finding the words to fill in the spaces. I’m taking up more room these days. And I’m more comfortable. I’m discovering things and remembering things. I’m starting to understand how I got to this moment. I will probably always be a private person but from now on, at least I will know who I am.
What this year did was make me more comfortable with the uncomfortable. What it did was to teach me to go after the uncomfortable. This year has encouraged me to get back to the risk-taking self I once was. Hello, fear. Thank you.