“He looked into my eyes with a million things to say,
He held them back just like I tried to keep the tears away,
He took my hand in his, holding tenderly the love we shared.
And smiled as he promised he would always stay.”
5 years later, after I’ve returned from my trip to Greece, this moment suddenly makes sense to me. But before I go off on a tangent about this heart-wrenching moment, let’s get back to what’s being discussed – Greece.
The trip to Greece was short but surreal. Walking the streets that once kings and queens descended was an experience I could never put in words. Experiencing silent moments in solitude, watching a school of fish swim below my bare feet, talking to a dog and bringing out the kitty claws with the cats on the islands – Greece was everything I had ever dreamt of. But Greece did something to me that I never expected. A learning that we could all use.
The city of Athens has ruins still intact. The ruins of the Acropolis, The Parthenon or simply the remnants of an old world, bruised and battered but still standing. A little pillar here, a broken rock there, a tattered gate to a missing fortress; the ruins are everywhere. The people of Athens built the modern city around these ruins, letting them stand there in peace. So all of Athens has this modern city-like feel with the remains of the old world jutting out oddly, sometimes reminding us of the past, the glorious yet gory history while sometimes simply standing there watching over the new additions and experiences to the place.
Looking at this made me question one very core thing we all do – getting rid of our past. Hiding it in some box and pushing it way back into the untouched parts of our minds. But now I think, why do we have to destroy our past in order to start new? Why do we have to wipe the slate clean in order to write over it again? Why not write around it? Why not let our past hang in there to watch over us as we start afresh? Why not let it be there as a reminder of all the things we used to be and show us how far we’ve come? Why not accept the past for what it was? Why not accept how we were in the past? It sure sounds easy but trying to come to terms with this one truth has changed me a little ever since I’ve returned.
Somewhere, in some small way, I’m finding my way back home. I’ve found the way back to myself, the real, ugly, bruised and mad me. It’s a terrifying ride but the revelations are sure worth it, something as simple as understanding why I let go of something 5 years ago.