Some of my roads have been paths not of my making, but of other people; some paths have been purely my choice, some have been great with wonderful experiences, others dark and lonely paths where it was never certain whether I was going forwards or backwards.
You learn quickly, and with age and experience proving valuable lessons, that you cannot return from where you came from, but you might find that your path crosses familiar grounds again in the future; giving you hope that you can fix what you broke or finish what you started but those chances are like moon dust – don’t count on them coming around again in this lifetime.
Some of the things I have done, I have not been proud of; the people that I hurt unintentionally as I transited through their lives clumping around on feet of clay as I could only see my path in front of me stretching away with a desire to move on. Now I only feel sorrow at the pain I might have caused in my passing their way.
Some of the things I have done, I have been proud of and have lasting memories of times, people and places that endure even years later; I wonder if they remember me?
Some of the people I have met along the way have inspired me to try harder, to live with risk, to love and to hate (luckily there have been more of the former and less of the latter). Each has left an impression on my soul, even the bad memories had good points and some of the good memories have bad points.
Either way, I have made my choices, I cannot turn the clock back, any more than I can stop the tide from coming or going … so where I go in the future I know not only that I am going places.
This post is inspired by the write-away contest over at Scribbits