A new blog and a clean start. The hardest part is always getting started, the inaugural post, because I feel like it somehow has to be the beginning of something, a theme for the new blog. It's when I decide what I'm going to write about myself, what I'm going to say about myself in this one, how much or how little I'm going to say, how anonymous or known I will be - or how I want to or will be known. Much of what I've written (even more so not written) over the past period of time has been about that anonymity. And I haven't yet decided who or what this will be. Sometimes I want to write in character, to be someone else, some other version of myself, and yet each of those written moments however separate comes to define a collective me. Maybe it shouldn't, but it does. Maybe it should. All of the preconceived notions within myself and within those who read affect this - unavoidable. But anonymity is certainly an almost ironic thing when you write about yourself, to find yourself, to figure out who you are, or just put forward a piece of yourself in thought.

I came back to Birmingham this weekend and drove past a lot of places where a lot of memories are stored. Or maybe they're only in my head, but I like to think that places can hold memories. I think they do because when you enter places with a lot of history, you can feel that history even as an observer - but when it's a personal memory, it's even stronger. But sometimes when you go to a place after a while, it's not really yourself that remembers something - or maybe it is you in the present that remembers, but you remember as you now, as an outside observer into the past. You remember a person who was, and not the person you are now. This is obvious when stated, maybe esoteric or philosophical, but I think very real in a way. Time plays an interesting role in people and places. The places that hold memories are often physical buildings or have to do with the physical nature of the place itself - and as those change, as buildings are destroyed, as nature changes places over time, perhaps the memory fades. Perhaps the amount of emotion put into the memory has to do with the rate of decay; certainly those places with the most emotional attachment relate the most to memories that are associated with a place. And possibly the size of the place in question - a specific place, a specific building or area, holds more specific memories than a larger area, like a city. So, coming to Birmingham has a lot of facets, a lot of memories, some faded with time and other fresher in mind.

 Memories can be stored in people as well. And people can change as places do. And people do change... Upon seeing many people whom we have not seen in long periods of time, we often see in them as much about how we ourselves have changed. People change mostly through struggle, adversity. I certainly don't feel like I'm at a place in my life now where I'm facing much adversity; I feel static, and it isn't a bad thing for a time. I think that a lot of people lack challenges, adversity, hardship in their lives and that this is a major cause, if not the cause, of anxiety, depression, frustration, and general unhappiness. Though "happiness" isn't a word I would use to describe my current overall condition - it feels like a word that describes a moment more than a period - I would use contentment. "Contentment" is more filling, less hollow of a word. I think though, that this is probably best left a temporal thing. There are season in life, and each is to be enjoyed as it comes, but only for a season. When we leave ourselves too long in one season, we begin to fill ourselves with pointless struggles, drama, to fill the void of plateauing. There is a time to climb mountains, a time to rest atop the mountain in victory, and a time to come down from the mountains and move on. All in time.

Here in this place, I rest, not actively seeking any battles, having no quarrel with the world. It isn't aimless, as it serves a purpose. There is a time coming when there will be battles to fight, victories to win, as well as times to lose, to learn, to suffer, to grow. All in time. This rest feels eternal, not rushed as we often feel in battle. The intensity of emotion decreases our horizon of the future; the most intense emotions leave us to focus only on the immediate present. But a rest, a lack of heavy emotions, can feel eternal, restful as sleep. Here in this respite I lie, undisturbed by the battles I've fought in the past - victories, unconquerable enemies that left me fighting with only myself, failure, and great battles won and lessons learned. Here is where I stand, unsure of what is ahead, but unconcerned. This moment serves its purpose, and that is enough. All in time.

Who I am now, who I have been, where I am going, who I will be... All in time.

All in time.