How philosophical the past has become. Everyone seems to have a view on it and it appears to be fashionable to voice it forcibly whether the situation calls for it or not. If you’re feeling blue and you don’t know what to do, some kind soul will undoubtedly advise you to “forget the past and focus on the present”. But I say, remember the past. The past: that vast territory which comes without a map, a compass, signposts and requires spatial awareness of the emotional kind. The kind that binds you to a memory, and drags you to that place, even if that is not where you intended to go. And when you get there, the constantly changing vista is never as you remember it: the pain was always more palpable, the joy jarred gently, words were welts on the prominent pathways of your psyche.
But I say remember the past: The past: that vast territory which needs preparation before you set out on it. So I say: equip yourself with sturdy walking shoes, shoes with a firm grip to keep you grounded, mentally make a map meandering mindfully through tough terrain, view the vista with new eyes, make pain a signpost to avoid and see it covered partially with weed. Strengthen your spatial awareness and eke out exits along the way. Present your passport if required and ensure it is stamped and that your visit has been recorded, so that you know that you have been there and that you can go there again. Be mindful of the knowledge that your journey has been a choice and that there are no boundaries concerning the past. It is a place that will always exist. It may not be sunshine, inky moon-lit nights, leisurely lapping sea on sand, it maybe storm-filled days, biting frost and thoughts of time to throw-the-towel-in, but the past is yours and mine. After all, we have all been there. Haven’t we?