Looking back on a life
What have you left behind?
When I lived in the UK, I’d occasionally go on long nature walks, trails which crisscrossed the British countryside, punctuated with rolling hills and carpeted in greenery as far as the eyes could see.
I wasn’t much of a nature person, but I considered myself a rather talented photographer. Every few minutes, I’d find a scene worth capturing and out would come my trusted Canon.¹ Winding path caressing the hills, snap. Single delicate flower, snap. Rustling grasses against the blue backdrop of the sky, snap.
Not only would I be pointing my camera left, right, and centre, I also made a point on these trails of stopping and turning back to look at the scenery behind me. And I was often surprised by how beautiful the view I’d left behind was.
It’s the same trail I’d been staring at marching forward, but somehow looking back at it added a different flavour. Every once in a while, I’d pause to enjoy this view at my back. Muddy path recently trodden, snap.
Looking back at a life
In my last New Year post, I looked back at the highlights that made 2021 a momentous year for me. This year, I want to look back a bit further.
This year, I’m looking at my whole 33 years of life. Not the life I’m living — but the life I’ve left behind. I’m stopping on my trail and turning back for a long, hard look, to snap mental images of the person who used to be me but no longer is.
- An overconfident child oblivious to the travails of everyone around her
- An exuberant teen drunk on the freedoms of living far from family in a foreign land
- An anxious first-year craving friends yet at a loss in large crowds
- A frustrated lover desperate for a deeper connection
- A depressed fourth-year who couldn’t muster enough willpower to study for her finals
- An arrogant fresh grad who burnt all the bridges she’d crossed
- A wild manic convinced she was going to conquer the world
- A broken soul piecing together a new identity
These past me’s, just like the trails I’d trodden on, appear unfamiliar when I’m looking back at them. At different points in the past, I was these people. But now that I’ve left them behind, they appear to me as strangers — people I’d snicker at on the streets rather than my own past selves.
It’s a beautiful view
We’re often urged to stop and take stock of our accomplishments, of the feats that define who we are. Less often are we asked to consider what we’ve left behind — things we thought or did or were that now make us cringe in embarrassment or shame, things we no longer consider part of us.
But I’d argue that it’s equally important to look at what we no longer are. That it’s only by considering what we’ve left behind that we can truly see how far we’ve come. I need to see the overconfident child, the exuberant teen, the anxious first-year, the frustrated lover, the depressed fourth-year, the arrogant fresh grad, the wild manic, and the broken soul to appreciate how balanced and content I currently am.
In fact, isn’t the whole process of growing up essentially replacing extremely cringe-worthy selves with progressively less cringe-worthy selves, until finally you reach a point where you look in the mirror and grin with pride at the person you’ve become?
What do you think?
Take a long, hard look at your life this New Year and ask yourself:
What have you left behind?
Let me know what you find. You can choose to share with me all your past cringe-worthy selves, or simply let me know how much you’ve changed. Clap if this resonates, leave a comment, share this with someone you never want to leave behind.
Until next month… Stay thoughtful,
And Happy New Year!
Val
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Footnotes
- These were the bygone days of the digital camera.
Photo by Zac Edmonds on Unsplash
