Looking back.

I used to think that going back to somewhere special was a senseless risk not worth taking.   Whether it be a special location, a rewarding workplace or extraordinary experience, these things are always preserved at a point of high regard.  I have many of these accumulating in my life so going back to any could alter whatever it was that made the place or memory so special - it could be crushed.  However, not too long ago it was with some trepidation but a little excitement that I ventured back to one such place.  For many years it had survived on as the epitome of my formative experiences, from which everything I am today was based upon and to where all my achievements can be credited.  But I felt I was ready to return, and indeed needed to.  Something about it felt unfinished.  Maybe a return would complete some sort of unseen cycle that I started all those years ago.  And it did.  Going back did complete the cycle.  I left with a lighter sense of being than what I had going in, still without any real clarity of what that was, but it felt like that chapter finally closed.   I can see now though that this place had lived on unchanged in my mind for years, and because of that, I sensed I was missing out on great things as I was no longer there.  But going back made me see everything was different.  I was different. My memories had hybridised and taken on lives of their own, never to match the reality that time had changed the place, the people and the protagonist – me.  So as that chapter is now closed, I still have the memories, but time to start a new one.  And I no longer think going back to somewhere special is a risk – it’s a gift.