It’s far too easy to choose looking forward over looking back.
But why not choose both?
For years, I’ve focused nearly all of my energy on the road ahead, and what I would need to put into it to make it successful. For someone who has started over as many times as I have, looking back was considered giving up.
While few have walked as winding as path as I have — or at least few have by their own volition — many have also put blinders on to what’s behind them in favor of what lies ahead.
This behavior is intentional; our society seems to demand it. After all, the desire to improve, evolve, iterate, grow — it’s instilled in us at a very early age. Settling is akin to laziness; even if we’re in a good place, there is always more than can be learned, tried and achieved.
With this perspective in mind, it shouldn’t be surprising that we’d rather think of what comes next than what came before. The past is a scar that should remain under wraps — a reminder of a time when we were younger and more immature.
But there is a danger in this path. By never taking the courage to look back, we lose sight not only about how we got here, but also what makes us unique.
This is a big reason I’ve been spending more time recently pondering my past — from my time growing up in the northeast, to my college days in Florida to my previous career in West Texas. I’ve looked back not only at the golden sun-drenched memories, but also the embarrassing mistakes I made along the way —the times I thought I knew it all but had no clue.
I’ve owned up to it — all of it — not only when reminiscing with acquaintances from those times, but also when conversing with those I’ve met more recently.
This has been difficult for me to do. I don’t consider myself vain, but I am an introvert. Sharing my story with those I don’t inherently trust is uncomfortable — scary even.
But despite my nature, I’ve come to realize the importance of being more transparent, and the benefits it can provide both myself and the world around me. It’s a major reason why I started Words of the West, and also a prime reason why I’m more apt to bring up my past in conversations these days than I once was.
For life is like a set of Legos; you can build it up into something beautiful, but only gradually. The past serves as building blocks — not only in terms of foundational structure, but also in terms of art and innovation. The past is not only what helps you build that dinosaur or French chateau, it’s what helps make it that dinosaur or chateau.
Our path ahead is marked with desires and communal expectations. But the journey we actually take is innately our own. By building off the lessons and memories of our unique past, we can build our own roadmap for the continuation of our 1 in 8 billion expedition. We don’t just live our journey, we own it.
So, we must not shun those building blocks. Instead, we must utilize them — and continue to create.