folio

I confess that I struggle with people reading what I penned years ago. On the one hand, there is the cringe factor. On the other, I wrestle with my perennial cynicism. Will my critical thought, hewn of the context of the moment in which a post was penned, misguide and divert whoever may stumble upon it today?

A decade ago I went through a phase of purging nearly everything I had written before 2008. That was until a young reader got in touch, pleading me to put it all back. When they begged me to restore my “poetry” — a very generous ascription — I explained that I no longer related to what I had written all those years ago. Their reply to that was: “But I relate to it!”

Charitably, I ultimately conceded, and restored those posts for that particular passerby. Nevertheless, daily I’m minded to obliterate many an old post I see still being read, years later. There is better writing to be read than mine. Ideas better articulated. Opinions more worthy of consideration than my own. But, still, for now, I choose to leave them be. Let them remain another day.