The Enigma of Life: The Past

September 10, 2014

I wrote this post a while ago, in my ghetto Tumblr blog. Nothing against Tumblr. Maybe just that it’s ghetto. I want to revisit it because it seems to be timeless, and I’m not sure if I can pin that as a flaw or a gift.

Ill let you decide….

I’m not sure what it is about the past that makes us so eager to grab it and hold it and squeeze it. Like an old friend or an old house. We see it and we remember all the goodness in it.

We remember the memories and the truths and the firsts we experienced and how much life was held in those moments and in those times and with those people in those places. We want to rekindle them. Reset them aflame. We want an inferno to start in our hearts right where we left off.

But that fire was set all by itself the first time. The places and the people were there in those moments for a reason, and they are absent from your present moments for an even greater reason. You need their memories and you need those lessons. But you don’t need their presence. You’re different because of them. You’ve grown and adapted and morphed because of those times in those places with those people.

There is so much beauty in the past. Those experiences are treasured and remembered and most importantly, they are lived. And I think that is what we forget. We forget that they failed the first time around. And it wasn’t because of distance or time or bad luck. It’s because they were meant to become a fleeting part of your life. It is because they were meant for other things, because you are meant for other things. They had their chance to grow and mold and stick and they didn’t. For whatever reason, it didn’t work out. And here’s the kicker, here’s the secret that no one tells you. Here’s the truth that you need to hear and you need to believe and you need to live out. It’s ok.

It’s ok to ache and yearn and hope for familiarity to find its way back to you. It’s ok to feel comfortable and safe. It’s human nature to feel a sense of belonging. But that’s where it stops. The hoping and the thinking and the analyzing, that’s humanity, that’s growing up. The replaying and reliving and rewriting, that’s selfish. Stop sucking more out of moments and memories and people. Stop searching for a spark or an open window or an easy way out. Stop settling.

The best and most beautiful part about this life is that it perpetually gets bigger and grander as you allow it to. Your heart expands in accordance to its surroundings. That is your job. That is your right. Surround yourself with things that scare you, with things that make you feel alive and new. Stop limiting yourself to familiarity. That won’t keep you up at night. Familiarity is complacent. Much like your old best friend and your old house, familiarity is something that belongs in the past.

The truth?  You’re the author. You get to decide.



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