"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars".--Kahlil Gibran
"If you are depressed you are living in the past. If you are anxious you are living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the present". --Lao Tzu
"The only time you should ever look back is to see how far you have come".--Anonymous
"The past is a place of reference, not a place of residence".--Anonymous
"Let go of the past so the future can take its place".--Anonymous
In the Frank Sinatra song “ My Way, “ in part the lyrics read “ regrets I’ve had a few . “ In the composite of life’s persons, places, and things I can speak clearly for myself that there are times the mind transverses in that direction. But, I truly believe that commitment to a spiritual-philosophical desire to do the will of our Creator somehow allows the ebb-and-flow of our circumstances and challenges to steer us in the right direction. This end result may take many years or even decades ( read about Saint Monica, 1600 years ago in Tagaste - modern day Africa , who prayed thirty years for the conversion of her a strayed son Augustine’s conversion after a decadent life ), but will somehow unfold the ripples of or existence to where we should ultimately be. I am seeing that manifest currently in my lifetime, and believe it is potentially true for all people if they put their mind in that ocean setting and patiently accept.
This Gibran poem elicits a lot of feelings and thoughts in me, but I'll mention just one. I love it that he makes the river a "she." Makes me reflect on the ways in which my gender helps me flow and teaches me wisdom.
I think of this poem often, especially with big change and loss coming from so many directions recently. This poem reminds me to soften into a safe surrender. Strangely, through all the forms and cycles of heartbreak and grief, there is an underlying stronghold of stable ground beneath it all - the ocean floor holding the waves, if you will. It quells fear’s voice. I know that I can only be propelled forward, because I trust that the organizing intelligence is weaving it all just so, and one day, here or there, I will see the full picture, and take that biggest exhale. Strangely, I want to be propelled forward into not going back - as sweet as memory is - because that is how I grow, the family grows, that is how I get to see the whole story, and because life needs to unfold. Life wants to live, here or there. I take comfort in that vast ocean, that vast cosmic expanse that continues on and knows more than I. I am grateful for what I am not yet privileged to know. In these ways, I soothe myself into believing that there really is no end, just a different shape of things, and some new beginnings to explore. Same loves, different forms, still with me, and I with them... Thank you for reading my ramble :).
I do reflect on my past from time to time. Among the thoughts are both joy and regret. Yes I do regret some things. And by regret, I don’t mean I regret where I’ve ended up. The moments I remember with regret are moments, and relationships where I just didn’t muster enough courage to take a chance. What I regret isn’t the life I have now, but the past life I might have lived. And I don’t “suffer” within this regret, I kind of stand above my past self and look at him and say, “yeah, sorry, but I know it was hard for you, and you did the best you could”. As for death, I guess I kind of play a mind game, but it is more real than a game. I remind myself that many people die young, and I’ve already enjoyed living well beyond that point, and I tell myself I could have passed yesterday, and then I see the day before me as the immeasurable gift it is.
I think the desire to go back brings us feelings of sadness because we know we can’t. I think going forward is scary because it’s the unknown. Maybe the best thing is to live in the moment. ☺️
I think for a long time I’ve been trying to go back – back to people, back to relationships, back to versions of myself that no longer exist. I’ve often thought that if I just explained myself better, tried harder, loved more, fixed things, or made the right decision, I could somehow get back to the way things were.
Reading this made me realise that maybe that’s where so much of my suffering comes from.
The line, “Nobody can go back. To go back is impossible in existence,” felt both heartbreaking and strangely comforting. It reminded me that no amount of effort can undo grief, change people into who we needed them to be, or return us to who we once were.
I think I’ve been standing at the edge of the ocean for a while now, terrified of what happens if I stop fighting the current. Terrified of letting go of identities, relationships, expectations and old versions of myself. It has felt like stepping into the unknown would mean disappearing.
But this reframed it for me.
Maybe it isn’t about disappearing at all. Maybe it’s about becoming something larger because of everything we’ve been through.
I can’t go back to the person I was before loss, heartbreak, diagnoses, relapse, or disappointment. But perhaps I don’t need to. Perhaps the task isn’t to become who I was, but to become who I am now – someone a little wiser, softer, more accepting of my own nature, and more willing to build a life that actually fits.
Again, I am in a privileged situation, having SDAM and alexithymia. To go back has never been aspirational to me. What tends to keep me from flowing into the ocean is the notion of giving up being a river.
But then, we mix two things here: a river will stay a river. But as the saying goes, we cannot step into the same river twice. The water within the river will flow into the ocean, not the river itself. Not what we define as a river, anyway.
A drop of water in the river does not have more individuality than a drop of water in the ocean. But a drop of water in an ocean does not have less defining power than a drop of water in a river. They both exist because of the accumulation of drops within them, and in both, the single drop does not form a river or an ocean, nor do they stand apart from the rest of the drops.
Perhaps my autism takes things too literally. Maybe I misunderstood the metaphor. It might be more about my life being spent traveling from the source or birth to death.
There is a difference between reflective and restorative nostalgia. Whereas reflective nostalgia represents a longing that can even drive the creation and preservation of what is new, yet fundamentally possible because of its connection to reality, restorative nostalgia seeks to turn back the wheel of time and rejects all change unless it restores what used to be. (https://aperspectival.substack.com/p/reflexive-versus-restorative-nostalgia)
I think that traveling back in time in our mind, using reflective nostalgia to create the new, is a wonderful tool. Wanting to recreate the old is futile.
I love the idea and the imagery of becoming the ocean, of being one with all around us. How much less frightening the world might be if we accepted the currents that move us forward, that take us into more vast and deep waters. Floating feels way better than endlessly struggling to get back to shore. Peace to everyone on this spring day.
I think I’ve tried to go back emotionally and physically. I keep telling myself “you can’t go back” even to the cellls that once made up your body when you were 25,35 or 45.
"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars".--Kahlil Gibran
"If you are depressed you are living in the past. If you are anxious you are living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the present". --Lao Tzu
"The only time you should ever look back is to see how far you have come".--Anonymous
"The past is a place of reference, not a place of residence".--Anonymous
"Let go of the past so the future can take its place".--Anonymous
Thank you.
In the Frank Sinatra song “ My Way, “ in part the lyrics read “ regrets I’ve had a few . “ In the composite of life’s persons, places, and things I can speak clearly for myself that there are times the mind transverses in that direction. But, I truly believe that commitment to a spiritual-philosophical desire to do the will of our Creator somehow allows the ebb-and-flow of our circumstances and challenges to steer us in the right direction. This end result may take many years or even decades ( read about Saint Monica, 1600 years ago in Tagaste - modern day Africa , who prayed thirty years for the conversion of her a strayed son Augustine’s conversion after a decadent life ), but will somehow unfold the ripples of or existence to where we should ultimately be. I am seeing that manifest currently in my lifetime, and believe it is potentially true for all people if they put their mind in that ocean setting and patiently accept.
This Gibran poem elicits a lot of feelings and thoughts in me, but I'll mention just one. I love it that he makes the river a "she." Makes me reflect on the ways in which my gender helps me flow and teaches me wisdom.
I think of this poem often, especially with big change and loss coming from so many directions recently. This poem reminds me to soften into a safe surrender. Strangely, through all the forms and cycles of heartbreak and grief, there is an underlying stronghold of stable ground beneath it all - the ocean floor holding the waves, if you will. It quells fear’s voice. I know that I can only be propelled forward, because I trust that the organizing intelligence is weaving it all just so, and one day, here or there, I will see the full picture, and take that biggest exhale. Strangely, I want to be propelled forward into not going back - as sweet as memory is - because that is how I grow, the family grows, that is how I get to see the whole story, and because life needs to unfold. Life wants to live, here or there. I take comfort in that vast ocean, that vast cosmic expanse that continues on and knows more than I. I am grateful for what I am not yet privileged to know. In these ways, I soothe myself into believing that there really is no end, just a different shape of things, and some new beginnings to explore. Same loves, different forms, still with me, and I with them... Thank you for reading my ramble :).
I do reflect on my past from time to time. Among the thoughts are both joy and regret. Yes I do regret some things. And by regret, I don’t mean I regret where I’ve ended up. The moments I remember with regret are moments, and relationships where I just didn’t muster enough courage to take a chance. What I regret isn’t the life I have now, but the past life I might have lived. And I don’t “suffer” within this regret, I kind of stand above my past self and look at him and say, “yeah, sorry, but I know it was hard for you, and you did the best you could”. As for death, I guess I kind of play a mind game, but it is more real than a game. I remind myself that many people die young, and I’ve already enjoyed living well beyond that point, and I tell myself I could have passed yesterday, and then I see the day before me as the immeasurable gift it is.
“Always on the move, like water that keeps flowing and flowing — and where does it stay?”
I think the desire to go back brings us feelings of sadness because we know we can’t. I think going forward is scary because it’s the unknown. Maybe the best thing is to live in the moment. ☺️
I think for a long time I’ve been trying to go back – back to people, back to relationships, back to versions of myself that no longer exist. I’ve often thought that if I just explained myself better, tried harder, loved more, fixed things, or made the right decision, I could somehow get back to the way things were.
Reading this made me realise that maybe that’s where so much of my suffering comes from.
The line, “Nobody can go back. To go back is impossible in existence,” felt both heartbreaking and strangely comforting. It reminded me that no amount of effort can undo grief, change people into who we needed them to be, or return us to who we once were.
I think I’ve been standing at the edge of the ocean for a while now, terrified of what happens if I stop fighting the current. Terrified of letting go of identities, relationships, expectations and old versions of myself. It has felt like stepping into the unknown would mean disappearing.
But this reframed it for me.
Maybe it isn’t about disappearing at all. Maybe it’s about becoming something larger because of everything we’ve been through.
I can’t go back to the person I was before loss, heartbreak, diagnoses, relapse, or disappointment. But perhaps I don’t need to. Perhaps the task isn’t to become who I was, but to become who I am now – someone a little wiser, softer, more accepting of my own nature, and more willing to build a life that actually fits.
The river can’t go back upstream.
But maybe the ocean isn’t something to fear.
Maybe it’s where we finally become ourselves.
Again, I am in a privileged situation, having SDAM and alexithymia. To go back has never been aspirational to me. What tends to keep me from flowing into the ocean is the notion of giving up being a river.
But then, we mix two things here: a river will stay a river. But as the saying goes, we cannot step into the same river twice. The water within the river will flow into the ocean, not the river itself. Not what we define as a river, anyway.
A drop of water in the river does not have more individuality than a drop of water in the ocean. But a drop of water in an ocean does not have less defining power than a drop of water in a river. They both exist because of the accumulation of drops within them, and in both, the single drop does not form a river or an ocean, nor do they stand apart from the rest of the drops.
Perhaps my autism takes things too literally. Maybe I misunderstood the metaphor. It might be more about my life being spent traveling from the source or birth to death.
There is a difference between reflective and restorative nostalgia. Whereas reflective nostalgia represents a longing that can even drive the creation and preservation of what is new, yet fundamentally possible because of its connection to reality, restorative nostalgia seeks to turn back the wheel of time and rejects all change unless it restores what used to be. (https://aperspectival.substack.com/p/reflexive-versus-restorative-nostalgia)
I think that traveling back in time in our mind, using reflective nostalgia to create the new, is a wonderful tool. Wanting to recreate the old is futile.
I appreciate how you describe the difference between reflective and restorative nostalgia. Thank you.
I love the idea and the imagery of becoming the ocean, of being one with all around us. How much less frightening the world might be if we accepted the currents that move us forward, that take us into more vast and deep waters. Floating feels way better than endlessly struggling to get back to shore. Peace to everyone on this spring day.
I think I’ve tried to go back emotionally and physically. I keep telling myself “you can’t go back” even to the cellls that once made up your body when you were 25,35 or 45.