The older we grow, the more of our mind's spaces we shut down. We shut them forever, allowing not a glimpse of the pristine faith that once resided in them. We shut them, leaving not a trace of the child's undemanding love, of the teenager's insatiable thirst, of the lover's boundless passion. Sometimes we paint over the artist's dream. Sometimes we burst the dreamer's bubble. These spaces, we shut them to the world, we shut them to ourselves.
Oftentimes wisdom from experience serves to mar the mind. This is not to say experiences do not leave us richer. But oftentimes wisdom brings with it reckless scars of memory. Unknowingly we change, unwillingly even. The metamorphosis however is thorough and clinical.
So I stand at the helm of my life, looking back instead of forward. I wish I could go back in time. Not to change anything. Just to be in that time instead of this. Just because my anchors are still planted there. Just to be childish, ignorant and cocky one more time. I stand at the helm of my life, knowing not where to go.
2 comments:
Close your eyes and stay still. It will take you where you want to be, and still let you drift into where you need to be.
Isnt today, tomorrow's past? And if we have the hindsight that we wanted to go back to our past to be there, wouldnt it be great to realise that we are already right there in the past of tomorrow, a past that tomorrow we invariably wish we could get back to?
Nice writings. Crisp and to the point.
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