- 03 Nov, 2025 *
Dear Ciara,
For weeks now, I have been fighting off an almighty foe: the desperate urge to completely delete Dear Ciara from the digital world. You’ve known me for long enough to know why I have been feeling this way, but I will give others that read our letters a short explanation so that they too can come understand.
I have always been obsessed with perfection, a perfection that I curate internally and then expect everything I create to somehow conform to. The issue is that this definition of perfection is not fixed; it is malleable and constantly evolving. What once I was content with—what once maybe felt profound, important, or even “aesthetically-pleasing” to me—can, in an instant, suddenly turn grotesque. This is how I have been feeling regarding *Dear Ci…
- 03 Nov, 2025 *
Dear Ciara,
For weeks now, I have been fighting off an almighty foe: the desperate urge to completely delete Dear Ciara from the digital world. You’ve known me for long enough to know why I have been feeling this way, but I will give others that read our letters a short explanation so that they too can come understand.
I have always been obsessed with perfection, a perfection that I curate internally and then expect everything I create to somehow conform to. The issue is that this definition of perfection is not fixed; it is malleable and constantly evolving. What once I was content with—what once maybe felt profound, important, or even “aesthetically-pleasing” to me—can, in an instant, suddenly turn grotesque. This is how I have been feeling regarding Dear Ciara. I have been reading through my old letters and overwhelmed with just yuck. Which isn’t fair, because much of what I have written is genuine and, in that moment, felt like something I desperately needed to express. I keep asking myself: how can writing of the love I have for a moment in my life be wrong?
Instead of writing to you, I have been grumbling about my writing and filling up my time with reading. I’ve been devouring books like there is “no tomorrow” (excuse the cliché), and I’ve also been spending a lot of time exploring other blogs on Bear Blog. What I have found has been enlightening: a rich, digital ecosystem of lives, some like my own, some so incredibly different. Every writer has a story to tell and many of those are imperfect. Some are streams of consciousness; others struggle grammatically in the same way I do. Many touch upon topics I can’t even begin to fathom, while some seek to celebrate the ordinary just as I do. What I’m trying to say is this: I think I’m ready to start again. No, I won’t be deleting my previous letters. They will remain in this digital ecosystem. Perhaps one day I will archive them or delete them, but for now, I will let them be. They have their place.
I would like to begin writing again. I would like to explore the things I have to say. Who cares if my syntax is clunky, if clichés unfurl from my tongue instead of profound poetry. Regardless, I have something to say!
I have added a new page for you, Ciara, called “Seeds of Inspiration”. This is a space where I will link blogs that have brought me some joy. I hope you enjoy them in the way that I do.
Later
Just prior to sending this, a coworker of mine approached me and gifted me the most delicious toastie. It has absolutely made my morning. I thought it might be nice to finish this letter off with a little bit of gratitude, as I know you have been practising gratitude too.
The song for today is:
Náttin er mítt heim — Elinborg
Elinborg’s debut album reflects the gorgeous, surreal and often harsh landscape of The Faroe Islands. Give it a listen.
Love,
The Gardener