This coming week, my wife and I will visit our home State of Ohio to see relatives and, perhaps, a friend or two. Having lived in other parts of the country for most of our careers, we try to make the pilgrimage at least twice each year.
Of course, most of our old friends have since left Ohio and the urban landscapes have changed dramatically, including the demolition of past apartments and sentimental college hangouts. Nevertheless, driving through old neighborhoods or walking across modern versions of our campuses will remind us of those we left in the past, those who often surface in our memories and, of course, those who still haunt our souls.
There is a great deal of truth to the observation that you can't go home again. But you can still touch base with the landscape of your formative years and, by doing so, come to better understand the person that you have become. Living in the past, with its embellished joy and buried pain, can only produce regret and self-delusion but the past must be acknowledged and appreciated; after all, it has a profound effect on our present and will continue to influence our future.
