It was as I read about the language of the Aymara, native peoples living in Bolivia, Peru, and Chile, that I began to have some thoughts, as one is apt to do. The language of these communities distinguishes itself in one of the most mind boggling ways.
For them, talking about the future, is referring to something that exists out of view, behind us. The past, on the other hand, is something that lives in front of us, our eyes squarely fixated on it. This isn’t a school report, and my knowledge of the Aymara and their language can be boiled down to a midday, procrastination-driven deepdive. Nonetheless, I feel like there is much to unpack, especially as we live in this current state of confusion.
Here I am, an “adult” set to enter into this world, that’s arguably filled with children running things. In our so-called reality, I honestly don’t see my experience represented. I struggle to find appeasement when it seems as though we are clearly missing pieces to this puzzle, and all the ones that might fit, are being negligently discarded. I’m sure many young people feel the same way.
Time travel has long been an obsession for Western culture. It’s no surprise that in a society where human rights abuses, corruption, and global devastation run rampant, we’re taught how bad it would be to “go back.” We must move forward, as we can’t challenge or change anything because our complacency and forgetfulness so perfectly fits the agenda of continued destruction.
Turmoil has always had a place on this planet. Civilizations battling it out, lands conquered, and generational fury and trauma marking us all. However, one of the greatest acts of resistance against all of this has been the presence of peace within oneself. Whether in the 1800s or in 2020, there are varying degrees of peace and levels of coping that have occured within us; a way to make it through each day. In recognizing this, I have to wonder how much of our own peace has been unknowingly disrupted by our own ideas about where we stand spatially.
The scariest thing for a young person is to imagine oneself, old and stuck living “back” in their past. You look back habitually, feeling resolutely that the future, that scary thing ahead of you, will never fill the hole that so clearly gaps in your present self. Let’s be clear, to think the opposite is no better. How often have you sat and daydreamt about the future? In your mind’s eye, things seem so vivid. It can almost seem at times, like if you were to go in the direction of that dream, you would do so by running straight ahead, with outstretched arms. The future, all consuming, seems to eclipse reality, so much that it begins to almost feel real. Many of you can also probably attest to the feeling of seeing that dream slip away, your feet not able to carry you fast enough, and your eyes squinting as it becomes more and more difficult to see what once seemed so near.
I dare say these feelings, in relation to things big and small, are universal. It could be holding onto a childhood memory, refusing to make similar ones for the fear that it won’t be the same. Or the crushing blow of a rejection letter to the college of your dreams. So easily, we can place the past on a pedestal, turning away from the blessings we currently have. Similarly, we all know of someone that thinks a fresh start will somehow answer all of their problems, and it’s likely we all thought to ourselves that refuting the existence of our own failures will automatically make us the winners we wish to stare back at in the mirror. All of these experiences are moments in which our understanding of past, present, and future have failed us.
I have to wonder what life is like, not constantly looking to the future, or running away from one’s past. It might seem backwards, but the truth is we already live in a world where down is up and up is down. Yet we’ve been force fed the opposite. How insane is it, that when systems that were never going to work, at least not for everyone, start eroding, somehow it’s now, today, that everything is out of whack? How do we live in a world where declaring self-love and searching for happiness is radical? It’s probably the same world that thinks the future lies ahead of us, and the past is to our back.
When the future no longer lies ahead of you, I think a sense of security and clarity develops. What sits behind you, is not a flight risk, and you can finally devote your attention to what really matters, the here and now. More importantly, one realizes the effort of constantly turning around to look to the future is neither efficient nor comfortable, especially once a crick develops in your neck from all that twisting.
You begin to be more deliberate and calculated in your aspirations, and your past can finally be a primary source of information. Suddenly, your past is vivid like your dreams once were, but this time you don’t have to worry about anything fading away. Memories can be a tool, not a security blanket pacifying you with “what once was.” With this tool, the future almost seems like an afterthought, and your present becomes your most pure, tangible form of self. Someone cornier than me would likely say you stop looking ahead and start looking within, but I digress.
Perhaps, there is solace either way. For most of us, looking to the future is too deeply ingrained. Arguably, we have survived and made it this far thinking in the way we do. Still, is where we are, even where we want to be? Is our real future waiting behind us, hoping we will one day finally look forward to the past, and see all of our failures and triumphs? Or maybe the present, within ourselves, holds more answers and peace, than we even know. Either way, I think it’s time we stop running and start thinking critically about the direction we’re all going.