Nostalgia is a funny thing. This week a family member stopped by at our place with a few boxes of old things. Determined to find room for them in our already ‘busy’ house, I turned our loungeroom into a makeshift sorting chamber. As the room slowly filled with piles of knick knacks and trinkets, I found myself thinking about my recent interview with Samuel Alexander and his words about abundance.
In front of me were school reports, photographs, t-shirts, CDs and cassette tapes, birthday cards and letters – more things than a person needs in their whole lifetime.
It’s funny the things that mean the most to you. I came across two little books, Green Bananas and The Three Robbers. I must have written them when I was no more than seven-years-old and they were clearly early signs of writing genius. Just kidding.
Maybe, instead, these books were just threads of my present self; early signs of my need to write. It comforted me to think however much things had changed, within that change, my love for writing had stayed the same.
I see similar long-term passion in many of the people I interview. I thought about filmmaker Inka Stafrace as she faced Israeli soldiers; about Nepalese journalists Suvash Darnal and Bidhya Chapagain who work towards rights for Dalit people; about Omar Merhi who supported his brother through Australia’s largest terrorism trial.
I don’t like to compare myself to these remarkable individuals, rather try and understand how their beliefs and passion drove them to continue pursuing their goals, despite the challenges they faced. In twenty years, when I am looking at a much larger pile of stuff no doubt, I hope I will be able to reflect on many more writing challenges and adventures.
For the moment, however, the loungeroom is a mess.