Ghosts Of Years Gone By

I've come to this point in my life where I find myself looking back on my life more and more with each passing day. That point on the proverbial mountain we are all climbing, far short of the peak and yet so far from the ground, when we take a break and look back behind us on how high we've climbed. Some of us may look back on that rambling trail which leads us to this point and regret walking it. Others may see happy times filled with friends and family. I look back and see what's gone. 

Every decision we make, every second, leading directly to this one specific place and time. If anything was different, my current reality might be radically different from the one I am living. A sentence said, or not said, could have an everlasting impact on our lives and I grow so very sad thinking of all the small things that have passed in my life, because they're not small at all. Like a bridge with so much water flowing beneath it, I can feel the toll of time taking its' price on me already. The people I have met and lost, the friendships and the loves. The places I miss and the memories I may have forgotten.

These things which have shaped me, and yet I am so high I have forgotten their touch. I feel alone sometimes, on this mountain, and looking back on everything I've left behind only intensifies this feeling inside me. On my mind lately has been my friend who committed suicide last year. Did she too look back on her life before she did it? Did she stop too on that mountainside and decide the peak was too far and the weight of her past was too great to continue?

What will really matter when we reach the top of that mountain? What will that trail behind my back whisper to me? So I sit, looking deep into it, reliving the past to hold onto what's dear. What's shaped me this far. When I sit back down in ten or twenty years, I wonder what that trail will say. Whatever it chooses, I hope I know, so I won't look back and regret.

Lessons

Today I got my first driving lesson. I don't have any sort of license, but that 20 metre crawl from one end of the street to the other was the best rush I've had in many moons. With Dad in the front seat and my Mum laughing hysterically at my nerves in the back, I began my adventure into the world of motoring. From its' tentative beginning to the jerky end, it was one of the first times I've really felt close to my Dad. Don't get me wrong, we spend lots of time together, but sometimes we're like two different people from two different families, with different interests and different personalities and it makes communication difficult. But today, having him coach me through this simple little lesson was a great feeling.

I guess there are lessons in life all the time. At the moment, I'm finding it pretty hard to decipher what my purpose, my lesson, is on this earth of late. I've just been resting it up at home, drifting from bed to the computer to the office and back to bed, with a bit of the outside world thrown in once a week. Life goes on endlessly without me and I can seemingly go on endlessly without it within these four walls. So what is the point? Life gets you hurt and burnt and hardened. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger they say. Why are they the only two options? Why can't life be a pleasant experience which bends to your will? 

And yet I'm drawn deeply to life. I can feel it at the window like a playful kid, beckoning me to come outside and dance. And dance I shall, but what is this purpose of mine? The reason I must go outside into this stream? There's something I'm missing here and I want to know what it is - like a fire I yearn for and yet are unwilling to touch. And until I do, I guess life goes on, with or without me and I'll continue to get these lessons, whether I want them or not. I guess we all just need to find our purpose on this small rock we call earth.

And so I look out and stare at the dancing child before turning away into this vacuum of life and decide to leave those lessons for another day.