A ribbon is really a type of string—not so much meant to connect as to decorate, but connect it does. For just a type of string, a ribbon has significance for signal it sends ("this is special") as well as for the attention they garner. In 2019, I published 12 new original essays here on String Theory, and each could be seen as ribbons tied to the branches of the tree of my year. There they flutter still, reminding me to return to the themes which inspired me to write each.  

Collectively, ribbons can make a banner. The banner that flew over my year was, distinctively, both inward- and outward-looking at the same time. It was as if the wind was blowing from opposite directions. Put differently, the winds of change were swirling this year. I started the year with an ode to a steady wind which lifted the kites of my youth ("The Flyer of Kites").  This was followed by several introspective essays examining how we sometimes defines ourselves through the assumptions given to us by others ("My Statue of Limitations," "Me, Converso," "Done and Undone"). The banner fluttering above my stake in the ground was not always put there by me. 

I have learned and grown from my years of travel, and several of my essays and repostings discussed travel-related topics. As you may know, I am generally wary of mass tourism, as well as the cultural appropriations passed off as “exotica,” designed to whisk westerners away to their own form of manufactured escapism (see, "One Mai Tai, Please”).

At the same time, I felt the need to write about keeping an open mind and heart (“Learning from Leonardo”) and challenging the now-popular notion that being a global citizen is no longer seen to be a good thing ("The Ties that Bind").  My repost of my earlier essay, “Join the Mitzvah League,” as well as my most recent original essay, "On Community," talked about how we can be better citizens, neighbors, and human beings. 

Perhaps the most commented-on essay of my year was "Simply Stella,” in which I recounted my first time learning to play a beat-up old guitar, and also not knowing what it was I didn’t know. I am not sure why this struck such a "chord" (yes, pun intended!), but I am so pleased to have heard it touched so many of you. I feel honored that some of you also thought it apt to show your own children, who may be embarking on their own explorations and just need a little encouragement to skip the cheap advice they get from those who don’t know where each heart leads itself. 

What might this all mean? What words are imprinted on my imaginary banner of the year? 

Perhaps it’s just this: "Explore." 

Embark on your explorations—wherever they may lead—both inwardly, and outwardly. Exploration leads to new connectivity, and perhaps most importantly, connections with your true self and your place in this world. String Theory, in many ways, represents the idea of being connected—to each other, to our histories, and to who we are. 

—Ray Brimble