Crumbling Bits of the Past

I was forced tonight to really take a look at the road on which my life's journey is traveling. When I look back, I was shaken to discover that the path I have already trodden is crumbling and littered with cracks and missing chunks of pavement.

If I were to be honest with myself, I would admit that I need a really stark reminder that you can't go back in life, you have to keep moving forward. How many times have I been tempted by memories of what I used to have, or where I used to live, and yearn to go back to that time? How much does my heart ache to have back my life in Israel or Nashville, with certain changes? I guess the crumbling of the sidewalk is a good thing, or I would be tempted to try to go back.

But the people I knew in those places in Time are gone. The country, city, politics, society have all changed. The dynamics are different, and not necessarily navigable anymore. *I* have changed, too. Even worse, the memories I have picked up from those chapters of my life were linked to physical items, like a quilt, each panel symbolizing another experience. And all those physical mementos are gone, too. So what sum of my experience remains? How am I to prove to myself that I did indeed do that, live there, go through this? Memory becomes cloudy as time goes on, and I need to touch, feel, be reminded of those times and relationships. But that link is gone. Crumbled. Eroded. Washed away.

So now I look forward and what do I see? That *is* the question, isn't it? Nothing that I feel excited about. Nothing that looks like a path I'd be interested in exploring. No vibrant colors, people, places. Just a grayish mist, opaque. Perhaps we make our paths by creating opportunities for choice. Maybe I have not fully explored all my options and opened up new pathways for myself. Maybe it's just overcast right now, and once the sun comes out, things will take on more color. I hope that the future holds for me paths to follow that are ribbons of color.

I'm waiting for the sun.