“Style is something that you cannot learn. It’s something that has to come from within you and bit by bit be arrived at. And it’s simply there like the color of your eyes.” – Truman Capote
It took some time to arrive, and it shall continue to evolve, but my style has always been a component of who I am. For many years I played it up while simultaneously dismissing it, donning costumes and items of artifice that conveyed a chameleonic shifting of character. It was a form of dress-up that we adopt as children, and which some of us never quite quit. It was as much revelation as it was masquerade.
Were mistakes made? Numerous times. Big, bombastic, egregious mistakes. And when I knew better, I tried to be better. I’ve always been one to appreciate the arc of a learning journey, the ways we improve and what we do after we make our mistakes. Too many people want to focus on the mistakes themselves and the immediate aftermath and repercussions; I prefer to focus on the growth and evolution and eventual revealing of who we truly are that comes about from those mistakes. These days I’m also discovering how to accept and be at peace with the perfection of imperfection. Perhaps I should have written that when I knew better, I tried to do things differently, rather than doing them better. Sometimes we don’t need to improve; sometimes we just need to do things in a different way.
As for what constitutes my style these days, I’m deep into comfort. Sweat pants and loose, oversized long-sleeve t-shirts. It’s winter. It’s a new age in a new world. And I’m cocooning. The unseen transformation is always the most powerful. In other to listen well, one must be completely quiet, and I hear the subtle whispers of inspiration when the wind is low. Acknowledging the past is also a component of good listening; it allows for the advice of the future to be fully heard. In stillness and silence there may be understanding.
