A Lesson from the Spirit

When you look back, you see only a multitude of projections of yourself. These are individual frames taken from your life. They layer one upon another, creating something like motion.
Your past is like watching a film where each frame is a word or an action frozen in spatial layers, like a precisely struck shot.
That is why you cannot live in the past; there is no life there, no moment of foresight, no aching anticipation, no zest for living. But there is room for acceptance, understanding, compassion… there is room to view those frozen frames to draw a lesson.
And when you try to return to the past to take some frame from there in a ridiculous attempt to implant it into your future, you suddenly realize that it does not work. The picture will remain only a picture; there is no life in it, no movement.
The frames of your memories are like blocks that form a certain backbone. This backbone is the foundation that holds you, giving different routes the possibility of arriving at the point here and now. As if they are branches extending from you. Remove even one block from there, trying to move it higher, and the whole structure will lose its stability; everything must be in its place. Do not delve into the past merely for the pitiful attempt to replay it, to live through a nonexistent future with a new script.
What was is already behind you, and whatever happened there, understand that it is your backbone holding you.
And the more easily you accept your past as part of yourself, the firmer the foundation beneath your feet will become, the easier it will be for you to choose a new path, shaping a new turn in your life.