For many years I thought I couldn't look back. That I'd be frozen into salt like Lot's wife. And anyway, I had to trudge ahead for survival's sake.
Looking back was first a luxury, then a fear, then a rule not to be broken. I wonder if that's how most things get outlawed? First it's JUST TOO YUMMY. Then you become afraid of tasting it again, and then... you outlaw it altogether to obscure any temptation you might have.
Last year, I did a terrible thing.
I broke the law and looked back. It was a dizzying, death defying act. I couldn't adjust my eyes, at first... but then? Looking through the prism of what was I discovered something extraordinary.
If you don't float around in the waters of what was, you can't figure out what is.
I just got back from a weeklong stay in the past. I snuggled into its warmth. Dove into its ocean. Drank wine from its jam jars. Smoked from its pack of Winston Lights.
I gazed at myself through mirrors that watched me grow up all those summers long ago, and they sighed with happiness to see me older, now. Able to look back, now. Those mirrors. How lovely. They softened my wrinkles and deepened my smile.
In the soft hours of yesterday there was joy mixed all up inside the pain.
Find the joy.
OH! But there is a punishment for breaking the law. You also have to open some old wounds. But you know what? I have a really high pain tolerance. How about you?