Reflections

It is not often that I find myself thinking of the past. In fact most days I am more apt to go out of my way to avoid it. Lately though, I find myself thinking a lot about it. Thinking of the places I've gone to, the things I've done, and the people I have known.

I find myself thinking on the affect that each and everyone one of those people, places and experiences has had on me over the years. Sometimes it was an affect that was not completely realized until long after the person was gone from my life, or long after I had moved on to new things. Sometimes the affects shown right away.

Sometimes they were dynamic, yet other times they were subtle. But they were all there.

Of course on the few occasions that I do let my mind wonder back over those things, there is the inevitable question that pops up alongside of the memories. The dreaded "What If?" question. And for a brief moment in time, I ponder on the things that might have been, had things gone a bit different, both good and bad.

I say I would never change anything in my past, and I wouldn't. My past is what made me who I am today. It is what allowed me to make it this far in life and to the spot I am in now. In truth, I do not regret any of it. So why do I avoid thinking of the past as much as possible, and when I do, why do I always end up asking these "What If" questions of myself? Because I find myself wondering, would any of it change what is happening in the here and now, or better yet, would it change what is to come next?

I would love to say that as an adult, I have learned all the lessons of life that I ever needed to, but I haven't. I am still journeying. Still learning. One day that journey will come to an end. The chapter on what is will close and become yet another chapter in the book of "What has been" and the thought both comforts me, yet terrifies me.

I can feel time moving by, all around me, and I know that the wheels of fate have begun to turn once more. So now I look back, and I try to draw strength from the past. I try to comfort myself with the knowledge that while some things seem intent on repeating themselves, they are the not same as before, because I am not the same as before.

I sift through the old, looking for bits and pieces of forgotten or not-quite fully learned lessons. I gather my wits and remind myself that above all else, I am a survivor. If my past proves nothing else, at the very least, it proves that....