The past is not set in stone
I’m reading right now The tarnished gobletfantastic detective novel.
Think “Sherlock Holmes set in Westeros.”
The main character has this augmentation that allows him to absorb every detail of every interaction, crime scene, and then recite those exact details later.
I remember a terrible one Black mirror episode about this very thing: being able to recall every fact of every interaction in the past.
Here’s the thing: In all of these scenarios, the facts may be true, but the analysis of those facts still leaves plenty of room for improvement.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently when I came across two stories I want to share:
“The past is not true” by Derek Sivers:
When I was 17, I was driving recklessly and crashed into an oncoming car. I found out that I broke the other driver’s spine and she will never walk again.
I carried this burden everywhere with me and felt so terrible about it for so many years that at the age of 35 I decided to find this woman to apologize to her. I found her name and address, went to her house, knocked on the door, and a middle-aged woman opened the door. As soon as I said, “I’m the teenager who hit your car eighteen years ago and broke your spine,” I started sobbing—a big ugly cry, the surface of years of regret.
She was so sweet and hugged me saying, “Oh, baby, baby! Don’t worry. I’m fine!” Then she walked me into her living room. Walked.
Turns out I misunderstood.
Yes, she broke a few vertebrae, but that never stopped her from walking. She said that “that little accident” helped her pay more attention to her fitness and since then she has been in better health than ever.
Then she apologized for causing the accident in the first place. He apologized.
And this a story about the “good old days” by Morgan Housel:
A few months ago I mentioned to my wife how great it was [life was in our early 20s]. We were 23 years old, we were busy, living in our version of the Taj Mahal. That was before kids, so on the weekends we slept until 10 in the morning, went for walks, had lunch, naps and went out to dinner. That was our life. For years.
“That was the ultimate life, as good as it gets,” I told her.
“What are you talking about?” she said. “Then you were more anxious, scared and probably more depressed than ever.”
…In my head, today, I look back and think: “I must have been so happy then. Those were my best years.”
But in reality, at the time I was thinking, “I can’t wait for these years to end.”
It makes me think a lot about the past and our future. It turns out that neither is set in stone!
What past can you rewrite?
As the cliché goes, it’s easier to connect the dots looking back than looking forward.
Is there a story from your past about a certain moment that you still carry with you?
Maybe it’s the one full of shame about something that happened, but it led to something even better for you.
Maybe it’s longing for a past life that never really existed.
The past has already happened, but that doesn’t mean it’s set in stone!
Return to Sivers:
“You can change your history.
Actual factual events are such a small part of it. Everything else is perspective, open to reinterpretation.
The past is never over.”
I would like to know what story you tell yourself about the past, good or bad, and which one you decide to rewrite?
-Steve
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