Our team put together the loveliest surprise 10 year celebration at the end of June. Amidst the streamers, twinkle lights, bagels and cookies, I was moved to tears by the simple gesture of remembering, that they would do this in a season where it was hard for me to. Maybe this has been a long season for us all - forgetting to remember. The art of remembering isn't an endless scroll of photos, but holding intentional space to pause and reflect back, to signify the importance of certain seasons, if not moments; sometimes this is the most potent way of moving us forward. I'm certain that our wiring has permanently shifted with the amorphous Cloud hovering and holding all of our memories, giving us this false sense that we can relive it all again one day. 43 photos and 6 videos of the first steps, 315 photos and 18 videos from the birthday party, repeat, repeat. We can snap and store till we feel our hearts steady at the fleetingness of it all, but I guarantee that the instant access to 250 GB of storage won't make the memories any more meaningful without the remembering. Hours gone and only 2 GB restored, my recent purge will attest to this.
So in celebrating 10 years, I’m remembering the IKEA inventory closet in our living room, the feeling of writing over 50 orders at our first trade show, the transformative email that came through our contact page, the exhale of moving 100 boxes out of our tiny loft, the first full-time hire, the debut in Japan, the togetherness bundles during COVID, and opening Sidebloom. To the hundreds of moments in between and all the more to come, I’m so grateful.
To less storage,
Pat
