Today’s Bloganuary writing prompt asks “do you spend more time thinking about the future or the past? Why?”.
I think my answer will be double edged. I judge myself on the past, but I try to only worry about the future. There’s a famous saying, isn’t there - about concentrating on the things you can change. You can’t change the past - but you can change your mind about what you do next.
I’m not sure I can explain why.
Perhaps because I’m a pragmatist? It probably plays into my lack of “faith” in some way too. I obviously believe in myself, and in friends - having faith that they we won’t do anything spectacularly stupid - but I don’t believe in any supernatural puppeteers that pull our strings.
The “great minds” such as Nietzsche and Goethe wrote endlessly about such matters - about the driving forces within and without of ourselves that appear to turn the cogs of interaction, relationships, and so on. Of course nobody really knows. We’re all making it up as we go along - some doing their best - some doing just enough - some doing less.
Although my children might argue that I’m a grumpy so-and-so at the best of times, at heart I’m an optimist. I walk along behind my family, picking them up when they fall over, supporting them in whatever it is they’re doing, and pretty much “being there” for the most part. I’m only too aware sometimes that there’s nobody ready to catch me - but then I very rarely fall over - or perhaps I purposely avoid situations where I might?
Am I risk averse? Perhaps.
Remember the other day, when I wrote about getting over myself this year? I wonder how brave a leap can be though, when you know nobody is waiting to catch you.
Perhaps John Keating had it right in Dead Poet’s Society:
“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here – that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?”