My kids like to play “would you rather?” games. They ask different scenarios such as “would you rather be able to fly or be invisible?” They are usually innocent kid questions and honestly if I have to play a game with the kids this one is one of my favorites. Earlier this week, our school district had family first night which is a night where there is no homework or activities and time to just be with family. We took the kids to dinner and then played games as a family. My middle daughter who is wise beyond her years at times asked “would you rather go to the past or to the future?” Me and my husband both looked at each other and said past. My thinking was if I could go to the past I could probably make some better choices or do things differently. And me being the bit of an alarmist I am, I didn’t want to choose future to find out two days later I’d been run over by a bus or something. So I looked at my daughter and said “what about you? What would you pick?” Without hesitation she said “future!” I said “Really? Why would you want the future?” and her reply was “Because I’ve already been to the past.”
That hit me harder than I thought it would. In fairness, she’s 8 so I doubt she has a lot of things she would change or do differently. Her answer 30 years from now might be different. While I still have no desire to see the future, I realized the past is the past for a reason. Why do I want to go back and do things differently? Do I have regrets? Sure. Do I WISH I would have handled situations differently or acted differently or never dated the crazy high school boyfriend? Absolutely. But would going back and changing all of that lead me to a different place then I am now? Would it have made me the mother and wife and friend that I am?
I had a good childhood. I was loved and felt safe and happy. But I had some rough spots and some troubles and obstacles to overcome that many didn’t understand at the time. And my teenage years? Let’s just say there are scars from that time that I will always carry with me. Some of those scars haunt me. Some I’m not proud of. And some I wear as a badge of honor. Each scar tells a story. Each scar taught me something that has shaped the woman I am today. I know that for sure.
One of my favorite quotes is from the movie the Lion King. Rafiki says “The past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either run from it or learn from it.” Who knew a Disney movie could be sprinkled with quotes that you may not understand until later in life?!
I once read somewhere about the Japanese art of Kintsugi. The Japanese repair broken pottery by using lacquer mixed with gold, silver, or platinum. Their belief is that the breakage of the pottery should not be hidden or disguised. It shows the history of the object. Each one is different because each piece is different. Some have more cracks then others. They enhance the cracks with something beautiful for all to see.
Wouldn’t it be great if we saw ourselves like that? Instead of using other things to hide our scars, we made them shine? Instead of being ashamed we used them as stories and lessons not only for us but for others? Wouldn’t it be nice of instead of everyone walking around the same acting like they had no scars or imperfections, we were able to see the things they overcame and how much more beautiful they are because of what they went through? What if we let our scars, our imperfections, and our “cracks” be our strengths? How amazing it would be to instead of hiding them we made them the most beautiful parts of ourselves for all to see.
No, I wouldn’t go back to the past. Because if I went back and made everything perfect, I wouldn’t have the gold and the silver and the platinum shining on me and shining on others to hopefully share the lessons I learned and showed people that what broke me at the time didn’t actually break me—it enhanced me.
And while I’m glad that one simple question made me reflect on that, I think I’ll suggest Pictionary for our next game night.