To The Transcendentalists (first letter)

I want my actions to coincide with my thoughts and feelings.  I’ve tried to be consistent in this and find myself wondering what you would make of my efforts.  If habits reveal us, what do these letters expose?  If I knew would I stop?  Would my desires slink away?  Has everything always been here already, in some form or other?  Can we presume to be the stewards of anything?
Yet another new and ugly century is underway, and slavery persists everywhere.  I want to believe (despite alternative facts, hate speech as self-expression, a totalizing entrenchment of social relations mediated by spectacle) that a distinction between morality and law remains obvious to all, that it doesn’t matter what is said or unsaid, affirmed or publicly recognized.  I believe each of us longs for, and indeed requires, a direct correlation between what we can articulate through language and representation and how we behave in our everyday lives — that we become increasingly unwell, separated from ourselves and the goodness of all things if we don’t achieve this unity (praxis?) — that we feel this separation as it is happening to us, regardless of what is said or unsaid, affirmed or publicly recognized.
Has anyone ever asked to be here?  Maybe we’re ourselves before we can decide anything.  Maybe some of us never figure this out.  Yes.  Maybe we’ve always been here already, a part of everything else (before we were born, before there were people).  I’d be relieved to know if this project has been (and will be) meaningful to others.  It often feels lost to my memory and sense of the present.  I become a stranger to myself in reviewing the output.  What have I managed?  Is there a significance here that’s not entirely speculative? Sent or not, I return to these letters in the hopes of understanding a self now gone, or perhaps, more often than not, selves that feel as if they are now gone but have never been here to begin with.  They’re a part of an ongoing process of reinvention and questioning, seemingly from out of nowhere and nothing, but always full of purpose.
You see, I believe, as you once did, that the inherent goodness of all things can be returned to and restored.  I’ve been striving to be more than moral, more than good.  Yes.  I’m still trying to be good for something.