Last night, I spent a long while listening to stories of days gone by from people from my past while tending to a pit of smoking meat. Last time I was in the same situation was…last December. All that reminiscing triggered a great deal of self-analysis on my part, but perhaps not over what you might expect. I didn’t feel horribly inadequate, or like my life was leading my nowhere. Far from it. I was more concerned over the difference between how I’ve been viewing my past in comparison to how others do the same thing.

Now let’s see. I’d say that my past hasn’t been entirely filled with greatness. Growing up, I was always awkward and had trouble socializing for various reasons. My intellect seemed to put a barrier between myself and the rest of my peers. No, I’m not bragging–it was very truly tough. You know how rotten kids can be back then. High school wasn’t a walk in the park either. I was only starting to figure myself out, and realized fairly quickly that for better or worse my personality would be a tough sell. I’m fortunate in that at some point when University rolled around, I finally grabbed onto strengths and weaknesses with two hands and swung them around to my advantage like a sharpened sword. And here I am, feeling somewhat empowered, albeit a little bit bruised.

I’ve always maintained that my experiences have led me to where I am today. I may look back once in a while, but if I’m to set my eyes on something to focus most of my attention on, it would surely be on today, and perhaps a bit towards the future (though, as you all know, my vision gets blurry when I focus too far ahead of myself).

Fair enough, you know? Not everyone is like that. Last night, I was listening to some people whose feet almost seemed firmly entrenched in the past. They spoke of those days as if they were the legendary glory days of yore. Hey, like I said, I look back once in a while as well. However, there was something different about they voices that I was listening to. The speech was tinged with an echo of sadness over times that will never return. Good for them, I guess. I suppose I can admit to being a little jealous that they had such a great time in comparison to my struggling. However, seeing as how we’re still young, it seems like a waste in my mind to pine for those old days as if life can never get better than that. Whether or not that’s true is far from the point. I mean, does the future hold so little excitement? Not in my eyes. Anything can happen. I’ve learned as well, that obsessing over the past can’t really bring you any progress. At best, I can say that focusing on my past can help me learn things that can only be found in post-analysis, which *might* be then helpful to the future. However, digging up old corpses along with buried treasures can cause unnecessary pain.

Heh. Saying all this almost makes me feel hypocritical. I mean, after all, I’ve been writing about my experiences in University, right? Maybe the difference is, then, that I’m not necessarily longing to go back.

So wait a minute…if my past was actually a bit more pleasant, would I be so any more hesitant to travel back in my mind? I’ll never know. If that was true, I’d surely be a different person that who I am today. That being said, the fact that little to no progress can come of obsessing on the past would hold.