I recently wrote about being consumed by the past. We find ourselves in it’s claws without taking note of the torture and the demise that we put ourselves through. After revisiting she subject, I felt as if a few things were left unsaid. Perhaps my mind had already changed and I was entertaining different angles and views, maybe I was just exploring every last possibility. I don’t know and it really doesn’t matter, but the subject is worth to elaborate on as I trust many to suffer from this behavior.
I was thinking of several people that I had met over the years and it was obvious that the past and life itself affects us all in different ways. The people I had in mind were clinging to the past and were unaware and naive to the fact that the past had already started to consume their life. Unleashing an array of side effects in its fury, people became cynical, even bitter and sarcastic. Guilt ridden by what was perceived as the wrong choice, the past always lingered, dominating like a big, dark, black cloud of doom. It was self destructive and headed straight into depression, a state of loneliness and darkness.
I had experienced depression myself but on a different level and not due to being unhappy with my past and the decisions that I had made. Still, I was no stranger to the pain and often felt that it was the very reason as to why I could feel the struggle of those around me. My intuition was developed in ways I couldn’t explain but it gave me an exclusive glimpse into the vibe and frequency of others. I would pick up the phone and call right around the time when things weren’t great and when support was needed. Or a thought would come to mind, something urging me to connect with somebody because they needed a smile or somebody to be there. I could see the pain in the eyes of strangers and witness it in their irrational behavior. It was hard to explain but I relied on this sixth sense kind of intuition with a heavy instinct that never proved me wrong.
One day not so long ago, I noticed a change within myself and while I used to entertain the past quite frequently, it became clear that this had been some time ago. I realized that I hadn’t really thought about the past all that much anymore and my interest of it had vanished into thin air. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t get the occasional visit from it and that the “What if’s” didn’t try to find a way in. Just like an old lover creeping back after realizing that a final life altering mistake was made, my past would check in form time to time to see if I had left the door cracked far enough so it could become a permanent resident once more. I heard the knock and the call that urged me to reminisce about times long gone, the distant memories, the things that were left unanswered and the things that involved pain. I had gone through this cycle for years and oblivious to the fact, I too had allowed the pain to make a comeback. Only to realize that with each time the outcome was still the same and the past never had anything new to say.
That little realization was my awareness and my savior. Just knowing what had happened was all it took to provoke a positive change towards becoming free and escaping the chains that had burdened me down for so many years. I made peace with my past to accept the way how life had unfolded for me, not that I was ever at war with my past but I no longer tried to alter the outcome. I left it for what it was, a part of me, a part in the development of myself, nothing more and nothing less. I waved farewell to the demons of “What if” for the last time to let them tell the stories they had come to know so well without myself being present and without worry. I surrendered and trusted in the belief that I deserved better then to be in-prisoned by my past. I was no longer going to torture myself with questions that would never be answered, and I accepted the choices that I had made for I knew that I had done the very best I could.