Thomas Wolfe prophetically penned his amazing book warning of the inability to go back an relive your past. This wise wordsmith knew on a fundamental level that when we leave home behind we will never return to the same people, times, or feelings that that particular bubble in time held for us.
I am ending a week long training session tomorrow and then I am heading back to my hometown for the weekend. It is my grandmother's 80th birthday and relatives have sent word that they would appreciate my presence at her surprise birthday party. Although this is typically a joyous occasion, I am always full of dread when contemplating travelling back to my hometown. I left almost 10 years ago and I can count on one hand how many times I have returned.
This place holds dark days of regret and ominous clouds of a calloused past. I was a very different man when I lived there and the shadows of the buildings, the smell of pine in the air, the oppressive heat breathing on the exposed nape of my neck all work in a twisted conspiracy to throw that disheveled, empty shell of a man back into my face. Even the elements themselves refuse to relent and offer a respite for my past sins. In my heart, I know that people can change. I have crawled my way out of desolation and honestly attempted to be a just and good man, but my hometown will have none of it. The sidewalks whisper up to me in treacherous tones about falsehoods and disappointments I left in my dusty wake as I escaped this land barren of good and righteousness.
I will do my duty, I will travel back to that place of desolation. I will face my demons who wait with bated breath for my return like a long lost lover biding the time until the object of her affection returns. They wait to embrace me with familiar arms and knowing giggles. They want so desperately for me to be that man I have toiled to throw off my heavy, heavy laden shoulders. They may be the only ones who truly know the what I have hidden so deep within me, like a secret poem only I know the rhyme and reason to.
You can't go home again.....and honestly I would rejoice if this cruel penance would pass me by.
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All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter,
Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost
-Tolkien