The First of Many
A photograph I took around my neighborhood as a reminder that much like the tracks, I can't see into the future but it is full of so many possibilities.

There’s always this gnawing impression in my mind that the first needs to be perfect. No matter how many times I flick it away, shake my head, or tell myself to stop worrying, the thought still lingers. And when I was done building this website -- my blog -- I had the same gnawing impression. What would my first blog post be about?

I have a list of potential topics I could write about, a list I’ve compiled to prevent exact situations like these (but alas, the irony of it all). But as my eyes scanned down the list, nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed right -- much less perfect -- for the first blog post.

I don’t know what changed, but a seed planted in my mind. I knew that I had to write a blog post; I couldn’t just skip to Blog Post #27039. So why not a blog post about firsts to mark the occasion? At first, I pushed the idea aside, but the more I thought about it, the more right it felt. My gut was agreeing with me.

One of the first things that comes to mind when I think about firsts is my physics class during my junior year of high school. We were learning about static and kinetic friction, and my teacher at the time was explaining to us that static friction was larger than kinetic friction because it takes much more energy to move a static object. Similarly, it takes more energy to start something new than something you’ve grown accustomed to. Whether it’s a new project or a new habit, you need that initial momentum to get you rolling up that hill, even as the friction of your own fear tries to push you down. Whenever I start something, there’s a feeling of excitement mixed with nervousness and fear from not knowing what to expect -- and it’s that excitement that serves as the momentum I need to start.

This is my first blog post of (hopefully) many. I hope you take something from this, whether it’s to learn more about me, pick up an interesting word or phrase, or learn something new. And I hope I take something from this -- improve my writing, connect with people and words, and learn something new as well.

You may ask why I posted this so soon before the new decade -- why not just wait until January 1, 2020 before posting one? Part of it is that I’m impatient, but a much larger reason is to remind myself that I should be thinking about improvement on a continuous spectrum, not one that resets after the year’s over. I shouldn’t wait until January 1 to start my New Year’s resolution; I should take action now to change and grow into the person I want to become. Posting this on December 30, 2019 will remind me -- every time I scroll down and read my later posts -- that I will bring into 2020 what I learned in 2019.

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Havah
made with ♥ in nyc & cambridge