Finally, I was found.
from Sole Witness: Asking the questions we try to avoid. Hosted by Roya Nava
Have you ever found something you made — And had no memory of making it? I found a letter twelve days before I turned fifty. I wrote it when I was fifteen. A month after arriving in Canada. In Farsi — because I didn’t have English words yet for what I was feeling. She wrote of sadness, loneliness, profound feelings of invisibility. I don’t remember being her. But she kept everything. Every painting. Every poem. Every midnight letter. While her mind was forgetting the darkness — her hands were keeping the record. At sixteen in English she wrote: “The night is black BUT it holds all the colourful things inside.” She wrote BUT because she was hoping. I answer her AND it holds all the colourful things inside. Because I’m fifty now. And I know what she was making in the dark. Is there something in a box somewhere — something your hands kept — that your memory has let go of? I’m Roya Nava. And Everyone deserves to be truly seen. Come join the full conversation in the comments. Related articles for this podcast: This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit royanava.substack.com
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