“When the child was a child
It walked with its arms swinging,
wanted the brook to be a river,
the river to be a torrent,
and this puddle to be the sea.”
– Peter Handke, Song of Childhood
Today, I am one year older than I was a year ago.
As happens every year, on this very day, I feel absolutely no different.
This is complete rubbish, of course, since I’m a radically different person today than I was back then, some three hundred and sixty five days in the past.
Since then, I have taken on a wealth of experience, of mistakes and achievements; each of which dug its little hook into the fleshier parts of my soul, dragging me in one direction or another… so that I am become each year a Renaud armoured with ever more baggage (both good and bad).
I am my very own memorandum.
A walking, talking, breathing museum of all the Renauds that were there before – constantly shedding past selves as I step into a future me: both the product and the symbol of my own accumulated existence.
I am that I am.
And I like to think that, something close to 99% of the time, that which I am is a net positive event in the life of the people around me.
I occasionally mention this, but 99% of that which I am is a product of you.
All of you make me who I am, all of the time. Everything that you say, everything that you do, is pulled into my Self and drawn into something new…
I may not be who you want me to be, but I am you.
So THANK YOU. I love being me.
It’s a wonderful adventure.
“Als das Kind Kind war,
warf es einen Stock als Lanze gegen den Baum,
und sie zittert da heute noch.”
– Peter Handke, Lied Vom Kindsein