The past already happened. It’s done. Finished. Wrapped up. Sealed. There’s no customer service desk where you can return it for a refund or exchange it for a better version.
Ever notice how your face sits at the front of your head? Not at the back, not sideways, but right there facing forward. That’s not an accident. Evolution didn’t mess that up. Your eyes point ahead because that’s where you’re going.
Yet somehow, we spend an embarrassing amount of time walking forward while mentally living backward. We replay conversations from three years ago. We cringe at that thing we said at a party in 2019. We obsess over decisions we made when we barely knew what we were doing.
Here’s the thing about the past: it’s the only place in the universe where nothing can ever change. You could sit there thinking about it for the next forty years, and guess what? Still won’t change. That embarrassing moment? Still happened. That mistake? Still made. That opportunity you missed? Still missed.
Life has this annoying habit of just keeping going. It doesn’t pause while you’re busy rewinding your mental tape. The clock ticks. The calendar flips. Seasons change. Your neighbor gets a new car. Your friend moves to another city. Life is brutally, relentlessly forward moving.
Think about it this way: imagine you’re driving a car, but you spend the whole trip staring intensely at the rearview mirror. You’re fixated on the road you already traveled, the turns you already made, the potholes you already hit. What happens? You crash. Probably into something really expensive.
That’s what dwelling on the past does. It crashes your present.
Now, does this mean we should pretend the past doesn’t exist? Of course not. That would be like saying, “Hey, I touched that hot stove once, but I’m not going to learn from it because I only look forward now.” That’s not wisdom. That’s just expensive hospital visits.
The past is supposed to be a teacher, not a residence. You visit, take notes, learn the lesson, and leave. You don’t move in and start decorating.
Every single thing you do today is writing tomorrow’s story. Right now. This moment. The choices you’re making, the habits you’re building, the people you’re spending time with, they’re all busy creating your future. And unlike the past, the future is still flexible. It’s still taking suggestions.
Made some terrible decisions last year? Cool. That was last year’s assignment, and you already got the grade. But today’s assignment? That one’s still blank. You get to write whatever you want on it.
Messed up a relationship? Okay. You can’t unmess it by replaying it in your head every night. But you can learn what went wrong and do better in the next one.
Failed at something big? That doesn’t make you a failure. It makes you someone who tried something. And now you know more than you did before.
The beautiful thing about life moving forward is that it’s democratic. Everyone gets the same twenty four hours today. Nobody gets to bring extra hours from yesterday (thank goodness, because imagine the flex). What you do with yours determines where you end up.
Some people collect regrets like they’re rare stamps. They’ve got regrets from childhood, regrets from college, work regrets, relationship regrets, that time they wore socks with sandals. Their mental museum is full. But here’s what they’re missing: while they’re busy being the curator of their regret collection, other people are out there building new things.
The past is loud. It’s got a megaphone, and it loves using it. It will remind you of every mistake, every failure, every awkward moment. But here’s the secret: you don’t have to give it the microphone. You can say, “Thanks for the information, that’s useful,” and then turn around and face forward.
Your eyes don’t work backward. They don’t have a reverse setting. You can’t see what’s behind you without turning your whole head around. And if you keep walking like that? You’ll trip. Nature designed you to look ahead because that’s literally the only direction you can go.
So here’s the deal: learn from the past, absolutely. Take those lessons. Use them. Let them make you wiser. But then? Face forward. Because that’s where everything that matters is happening. That’s where your life is.
The best part about tomorrow is that nobody has lived it yet. It’s completely unwritten. And the pen is in your hand right now. Not yesterday’s hand. Today’s hand.
So maybe it’s time to stop trying to edit chapters that are already published. Time to start writing the new ones. Because your face points forward for a reason.
And life, well, life is really, really committed to going in that same direction.
The best time to start moving forward was yesterday. The second best time is right now. And unlike the past, right now is actually available.
So what are you waiting for? Your future is being built brick by brick, and you’re the only construction worker on the job. Might as well start using better materials.
The road behind you is already traveled. The road ahead is full of possibilities. Which one do you think deserves more of your attention?
