The first time I told you I loved you,
I was still figuring it all out.
I still am, I guess.
The situation appears to be terminal.
I’m resting on my haunches
over by the power outlets in SFO.
The sounds of idle construction,
buzzing somewhere off in the distance.
Layover’s delayed – God knows for how long.
This itinerary has a mind of its own.
Feels like eternity ago
that I hopped from CLE by way of BOS.
Nameless travelers drift listlessly by,
toting baggage they’ve collected along the way.
We’re all simply waiting on our next connection.
Those who have spent some time around the Plastiq offices have probably heard me refer to one of my favorite alter egos – “Past Dan” and “Future Dan“. It all started as a joke when a co-worker and I were digging through some old code, and I just couldn’t decipher why I’d written it that way.
“Past Dan must have been out of his mind when he wrote this,” I mused. Laughs all around.1
Since then I’ve been increasingly using the monikers to refer to both decisions or actions that I made in the past (Past Dan) and things that I’ll have to deal with in the future (Future Dan).
Examples of usage include:
Over time, I became aware of an additional psychological benefit that arose from referring to my past and present selves as separate individuals.
Starting a new job can be both exhilarating and nerve-racking. As a manager at Plastiq, I view it as one of my most important responsibilities to – with the help of our excellent talent team – onboard new reports in a manner that instills within them the context and confidence to do a good job, as well as set the tone and pace for our on-going working relationship.
To facilitate this onboarding, I thought it’d be valuable to compile a “Bill of Rights” that all my new reports can read, refer back to, and – most importantly – hold me accountable for during their tenure at Plastiq. It is my hope that these guidelines will provide a welcome centering influence as our work and roles continue to evolve over time.
I must confess, I’ve never felt moved
to shout this love from the rooftops.
To demand the world take notice.
To let it reverberate in the ether.
Your love grows on my being
like a moss in the wood.
Quietly, do I stay my root
so as to know you more.
Some of us are hoping to recreate
whatever it was that made us believe
our parents were meant to be.
Others of us have only learned
to recognize the warning signs
of conflicts which drove them apart.
Both are burdened by perspective –
one with great expectation,
the other with cynicism.
I used to love imagining
what her smile might look like
with a few more wrinkles,
seen through eyes that didn’t bend light
quite like they used to.
I find myself unkempt with memories
of a future that will never come to pass.
What a pity that we can only feel change –
the trains steadying into their stations
or the jet engines screaming toward lift-off.
How quickly can we lose track
of the speed at which we travel.
The interminable spin of the wheel.
The unstoppable march of time.
And the fact that our pace must be slowed
to remember how fast we once ran.
In my dreams I can still love you.
I can forget the things we did to each other.
And fate hasn’t yet begun to conspire
the machinations which would drive us apart.