I am sat on a beach that is the present. Everything is pleasant; the sky is blue, the sand is soft and a gentle breeze ripples across my skin. Life in the present is good. While I am thinking about life and all that it holds for me, the waves of the past come lapping slowly towards me. I become aware of them and move further back from the sea of memories. I remain in the present and my mind wanders again. Un-noticed, the waves come closer again and lost in my reverie, I do not move back from them. The waves pull me gently at first; a long forgotten summers day, a girl I had a crush on when I was five or the smell of freshly cut grass in the field behind the house I grew up in. Then the waves get stronger, more powerful and darker in nature. Before I know it, I am pulled far out to sea as memory after memory crashes down on me. It is in these moments that I believe time travel is possible. I exist in those past memories as realistically as the original experience. They can suffocate me with the feelings of things that happened more than half my life ago. I surface and catch my breath, try and swim back to the shore, but the undertow has me in its grip and will not let go. In the blue green world under the water, images and recollections of my life flash before my eyes as if I were drowning in reality. The choice is before me. Swim harder and faster than I ever have before or let my lungs fill with those memories and feel their salt water sting until I can breath no more. Upwards then. break the surface, swim for dry land and vomit up the past until I am cleansed of it. On dry land, in the present, I am who and what the past has made me. I am more than that however. I am who and what the past has made me with the knowledge that not everything that happened has been allowed to alter me, or if it did, then I am aware of that enough to reverse the process. The past has its pull to be sure, so I anchor myself in the present and look to the future when I can.
[Image retrieved from here]