A digital time capsule for 2013
10 meaningful things from my year
When you move across the country, you realize how easy it is to accumulate stuff. Most of it’s junk, but the special objects are linked with emotional experiences, so you hold onto them. You put them in boxes and tuck them away under your bed and inside your closet. Of course, the dilemma of a nostalgic minimalist is what to do with all this stuff. In a weird way, the longer you hold onto something that triggers a memory, the bigger its aura becomes.
Lately I’ve wondered: What if there were a Dropbox for physical artifacts? That old ragdoll, varsity jacket, hand-written birthday card — poof! Gone into the annals of the cloud and ready to 3D print when you feel like reminiscing. Because most of the time, it’s not really the object you’re holding onto — it’s the story that object tells.
All right, I’m not getting that high-tech yet. But in the spirit of saying goodbye to 2013 (and doing some early spring cleaning), here are 10 photos of small things that meant something big to me this year. They all go in my virtual shoebox for safe keeping.
2013 was a year of unprecedented risk-taking for me. I’ve had more firsts than I ever thought I’d be comfortable with, including leaving my job for grad school, traveling internationally all by myself, and donating 10 whole inches of hair to Locks of Love on a whim. What can I say? I’m a twenty-something millennial on a quest for meaning.
It was also a year of making things, from big data visualizations to little handbooks. I dabbled in new skills like creative coding, bread baking, electronics and visual design. I rediscovered old passions, like cooking meals from scratch and journaling. I figured out ways to incorporate craft into my daily routine.
One of the most rewarding things about this new direction for me was becoming part of the small-and-mighty maker community at SVA. It’s easy to find creative inspiration when you’re sharing studio space (and mind space!) with crazy-talented people.
I’ll just go ahead and say it: I can’t quit analog books. In 2013, I was lucky enough to receive a signed copy of Lean In from its influential author. The book brought back one of my favorite memories from a few years back — watching Sheryl Sandberg and Gloria Steinem speak together about women in the workforce. It was my first time seeing both of them talk, and I was changed forever. Lean In summarizes a lot of the takeaways I gleaned from that conversation, ideas that have stuck with me over the years.
The other Cheryl (Strayed) is a favorite author of mine. Her autograph came from a writing workshop she led that I was able to attend in June. She is just as wonderful and brilliant in person as you think she is! So many beautiful lessons on writing and life were woven in that day, and I had a lovely time taking it all in with my content strategy coworkers.
I read The Tiger’s Wife right before traveling to Eastern Europe, a powerful introduction to Balkan culture. Now holding the book in my hands conjures nostalgia for both the memorable story and my own 3-week trip through the region: Croatia, Montenegro, Serbia, Hungary, Austria and Slovenia.
While I was in Croatia, I participated in a week-long yoga retreat on Hvar Island. Taking place right after I left San Francisco and before I arrived in New York, it was a beautiful, mindful moment for me — I did a lot of reading, tea-drinking and embracing the time in-between.
My yoga teacher told me something during my retreat that made me smile: She sensed that I was firmly grounded in my root chakra. In tantric tradition, this is the force that connects people to the earth and grounds their belonging to a family or community. When this chakra is clear and energy flows through it freely, we feel secure and confident.
A big part of why I chose to come back to New York was to be closer to my roots, my family. As independent as I am, my family members are like rocks in my life.
The paperweights pictured here were made for me by my little sister and my dad. The first one says “Ubuntu,” which is an idea from South Africa that represents the universal bond of sharing that connects all humanity. The word doesn’t just capture a beautiful philosophy, but also a memory of the trip to Cape Town that I took with all of my sisters this year. What a wonderful and rewarding time to spend with my best friends.
The second rock has a whimsical little drawing of a blue eye on it. That’s my dad for you — he’ll find a way to make art out of anything he finds. When he gave me this rock around Thanksgiving, he told me that I was his blue-eyed girl and that he wished he could give me the world. He’s done nothing but this for me over the course of my life.
I’ll add one last special gift from 2013 to my time capsule. While I was off soul searching in Europe over the summer, Elliot went on a fishing trip with some of his family in South Dakota. When we met up again in New York, he brought me two little cacti he’d found on his trip. They’d survived two long treks, first to California and then to Brooklyn. They’d gone weeks with no water, soil or sun. Yet as soon as Elliot repotted them, they began to thrive. There’s something about that resilience that I just love. ■
