“…and be grateful; our scars have the power to remind us that the past was real.”
If you spend all your time living in the past, you won’t be able to move forward. It’s okay to revisit those rooms every so often, to remember what was, the designs of those rooms, and where you came from. But they’re not places still suitable for maintaining life. You have to leave that room; close the door and make sure to lock it.
Move on. Set up new blueprints for future rooms, and build. Expand the mansion that is your memory palace.
Personally, I love the past. Some say those are halls better left deserted, but I still roam them on a daily. Not alone though. No, never alone, for my angels and demons roam those dusty cobweb-infested halls right alongside me. We have to, because sometimes it seems like the past is the only thing left–the only thing left that’s real.
Sometimes those rooms are simply the only places I want to be. Even though there’s no air in them and I can’t breathe, sometimes I feel I’d be comfortable just lying down and dying in one. The only difficult decision would be “Which one?”
I’d choose one that took me back to when everything was simple. When life was fun and not such an endless chore.
“The few mathematicians who could follow him might say his equations begin brilliantly and then decline, doomed by wishful thinking: Dr. Lecter wants time to reverse — no longer should increasing entropy mark the direction of time. He wants increasing order to point the way.”
–Thomas Harris, Hannibal
But that can’t happen.
The most I can do is revisit those vacant halls that echo with a never-ending silence, knock and hope the angels or demons welcome me inside. In the meantime, I hold blueprints to turn my mansion into a fortress.
Visit if you’d like–but depending upon which door you knock, I can’t promise you’ll leave.