"With time archers can look at holes in paper and see stories"
I'm not one to create personal rituals, nor one to engineer metaphorical moments. However, I find they happen organically often.
This morning I reserved my indoor bowstrings. They'll soon be going into the bowcase, likely to be unopened until after the hot summer season, when the leaves begin to fall again. I won't see them for awhile, but I thought it'd be nice to string them up fresh and ready to start training right away come Fall.
As I went to melt the string ends, I grabbed a nearby piece of paper to protect my riser from any drips. I'd grabbed an old target face, one of many lying around my office. As I tamped down the smoldering string ends, wiping my fingers on the paper, I took a second to look at the target face.
It was my target face from Nationals. I like to look at old targets sometimes to see what I can remember: why each shot went where it did, if I could remember what each shot felt like. With time I think archers can look at holes in paper and see stories; can see a non linear story of cause and effect. As time goes on, I forget if it's one of rally and triumph or unraveling and struggle.
It felt unfamiliar with distance: someone else's target face, some vague memory, now just a disposable tool to get me to the next season, to the next arrow. [Written March 13 2022]
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