Old Places

I write this from a train, heading to a city I haven’t been to in a while.

Returning to a place you used to visit at a previous point in your life has the odd effect of putting you back in touch with an older self. It isn’t merely that old memories surface, but they are lived: the cares and reasons and feelings feel real; more than second hand.

Many speak about development as if it were a straight line. We move forward, grow up, and get over things. But we return to old places and are young again. Does that mean we regress, we walk backwards? I do not think so. In fact, it seems deeply important to progress that we return to old places and face the old selves we forgot there.