The Unending Past

It occurs to me that the past is never past.  Not, at least, in the sense that it ends, or is done.  The past is ever growing.  It is never over, never finished, and becomes larger--and more imposing--with each moment.

We may of course, if we wish, distinguish it from the present.  What we experience, think, feel and do now isn't part of the past, but will be in an instant.  Like all else that we experience, think, feel and do, then it will be beyond us and unalterable.  We may do now things which will alter or correct the consequences of what took place in the past, but what happened has happened and cannot be changed.

This is a misfortune.  What we are is necessarily due to the past, what we will be and what we will do is necessarily formed by the past.  We're entrapped by it, to a certain extent at least.  We're slaves to the past.  More often than not, we'd like to change it, and are barred from doing so by time's arrow.

The past is what we regret; it is all that we regret, obviously.  We're unable to regret what hasn't taken place.  As we're constantly reminded of the past, by people who speak of it or by places where something occurred, regret is a part of our lives unless we've done nothing to regret, ever.  No human being can make that claim, unless delusional.

Even if we're not reminded in waking life, though, it lurks within us and is resurrected in a peculiar way in dreams.  Just last night I dreamt of something I regret, something which took place long ago, something which I regret so profoundly that it appears in dreams in some form or other, not frequently but all too often, and I regret it all over again; regret it as I did when I first learned of it.  I say "in one form or other" because the dreams aren't reenactments of what I regret, but odd vignettes, pictures or dream-events which derive from the regret.

It was something I wanted to take place and did not.  As a result, something else took place.

It's hard to conceive of anything more futile than regret, or explain the pain of dreams that provoke it and bring to a kind of half-life that which is regretted.  But such is the nature of the past that dreams can't be avoided,  Also, that which is now isn't what would have been, and the contrast is impossible to ignore, so waking life will also bring regret if we let it.

The unchangeable past is clearly beyond our control.  An aspiring Stoic, therefore, should be indifferent to it and not allow it to disturb him.  But the past is unending, and grows for each of us as we age.  The past is the most formidable obstacle to our tranquility.  It doesn't altogether help to understand it isn't something within our power, however, because we forever wish that it was, and can't prevent it from haunting us in our dreams.