Places have memories. The feeling that something was slipping away from my hands, first came from the realization that I truly cannot hold back time itself. Time slowly but surely propels us to new places to generate new experiences and memories.
When I was an undergraduate, I savored each day knowing that I will never come to the same place of being once I pass through the moments. Yet, a part of me remains enamored with the thought that by living vicariously, I could somehow capture each moment forever.
Looking back, I realized that whether one hated or loved college life, forever only meant those four years. 365 X 4. No more, no less. We have all moved on and left the memories behind as mortar boards cut through the afternoon horizon. No matter how slowly or how fast we try to move along, forever remains only in the present moment.
Should I have chosen law school in those moments of uncertainty? Was i moving in the right direction in life if no one else was heading that way? Have I always been the lone ranger because I never bothered to follow, do I regret it? Would I have done anything different, given another chance?
Some friends I know have chosen to retrace their steps in order to make abrupt turns in their journeys, to pursue something seemingly altogether separate from their life trajectory. No one is truly a slave of their past decisions, and the opportunity cost of missing out on an alternative universe have pushed the more daring into new territories. Two of them have quit their jobs after three years to pursue post-grad law degrees. Another to medical school, yet another plans to, in a couple of years after her Masters scholarship bond expires. An ex-colleague quit last month to do ancient Chinese history in Tianjin, that she might fulfill her dream of being a curator. The unknown scares her, but she chose to take the plunge, to figure out if what she ever wanted was truly what she really wanted.
Am I done with my own exploration? Hardly so. But I am no longer pressed for time, that restive spirit that implores one to move out recklessly and experimentally had been tempered with a new patience, a new understanding that getting to the right destination simply means to take the next right step now. It's not the execution of a grand plan to reconstruct your house from a brick, or to tear down everything you had ever known about yourself. It's to slowly excavate the parts of your dream that you had been to afraid to leave unburied. Perhaps some of my friends understood that, and their seemingly abrupt decisions are really the next best steps towards all they ever wanted. As for me, my next best step is here.
No regrets, no retreat, just endless remembrance when we sit in the place of memory, once again.