The little figure in the center represents me, showing how I relate to the Past, Present, and Future when I’m in a certain “state” of being.
The Past
I often experience the past as a sense of “loss” , something that was there and is no longer.
These losses might be:
Biological: physical deterioration or health challenges -> I find myself longing for the days when I felt stronger, or when my body wasn’t marked by the changes brought by accidents, unexpected events, illness, or time itself.
Psychological: emotional or mental struggles -> I remember a time when I felt more grounded, more at peace, and now I wonder, “Where did those days go?”
Spiritual: a loss of meaning or inner connection -> I recall when I felt deeply in tune with the Transcendent, a sense of harmony that now feels dimmed or distant.
Material: diminished resources or financial stability -> I dwell on the times when I had more security, when what I had felt solid and tangible, and I mourn what is no longer there.
The issue isn’t that I shouldn’t acknowledge these losses or pretend they don’t exist. Quite the opposite. The problem arises when, in this state, I fail to see these “losses” as a foundation, as something I can build upon or draw strength from when possible.
All these losses weigh on me with regret, accompanied by an inner voice that sometimes whispers, “Why me?”
Every memory feels like a burden. I carry them all in the backpack of my mind, but the weight bends my back, leaving me exhausted. Regrets and remorse chain me down like heavy shackles. Each step is burdened by thoughts like, “Why did I do that?” or “Why didn’t I do more?” or “Why didn’t I choose differently?”
This relentless backward gaze leaves me paralyzed, draining any spark of vitality. Guilt takes hold.
The Present
In the present, I tend to overlook what’s here or dismiss it as unimportant. When I’m in this state, it’s like being a shopkeeper who perpetually discounts all their treasures. I undervalue everything… And if I’m not ignoring what’s here, what I see feels simply… insufficient.
“What is” quietly fades into routine or criticism: “It’s not enough… it should have been different.” What exists slips away, unnoticed.
The Future
The future, when seen as a path toward goals and aspirations, becomes tainted with dissatisfaction: “I’ll be happy only when I achieve this goal,” whispers a voice.
But that “when” never seems to come. Or, when it does, I immediately reset my sights on another “I’ll be happy only when…”
I fail to deeply celebrate what I’ve achieved. It’s as if every goal is just another excuse to postpone joy. Each accomplishment loses its meaning when faced with the next target.
This future is also haunted by the anguish of “What if…?” — a parade of fears that freezes me in place. “What if it happens to me?” “What if things go wrong?”
These fears slither in like venomous snakes: “What if the worst comes true?”
This “what if” anxiety poisons my hopes and dreams.
And again, the little figure is me. But in this state, everything transforms radically.
The Past
It feels like being a tree that has weathered a storm: branches may have broken, but the roots have grown deeper.
Instead of lamenting what has been lost (physically, psychologically, spiritually,materially), I embrace what remains. I radically accept what’s missing and focus on what is still here.
Every scar is a testament to what I’ve endured , and a reminder that I’m still here. It’s not about forgetting, but about drawing value or meaning from past experiences.
The past is not an enemy; it’s a foundation from which I can begin again. It’s like a treasure chest where I can find memories or lessons to use now , for doing or not doing something.
The past isn’t a prison; it’s a mine from which I can extract richness for this moment.
The Present
What exists is celebrated, cherished, honored. This isn’t about settling; it’s about truly seeing what is.
It’s shifting my attention from what’s missing to what’s vibrant and alive, cultivating gratitude. And if “what is” doesn’t seem vital, I try to find or create meaning within it. It’s not about denying pain or discomfort but about noticing — or shaping, where possible — what pulses with life and possibility.
The Future
The future, while remaining the realm of dreams and aspirations, is no longer a source of frustration. I stay content as I work toward my goals, refusing to postpone happiness.
Imagining, planning, building, creating , any verb that involves taking action to achieve a goal is worthwhile, but at the same time, I can find joy even before I arrive.
Some key differences stand out when I look at the two images:
- Acceptance replaces victimhood for the Past.
- Gratitude and Celebration replace devaluation for the Present.
- Satisfaction in the process replaces unhappiness in waiting for the Future.
And then there’s the Focus of attention:
In the first, attention is on what’s missing or lost.
In the second, attention is on what exists and the possibilities available.
The second image guides me to a more mature and balanced approach to life: accepting what cannot be changed, appreciating what I have, and pursuing goals while enjoying the journey.
We all know how much and how often we oscillate between these two states. In the first, emotional reactivity (complaints, victimhood, dissatisfaction) takes over. In the second, conscious responses (acceptance, gratitude, constructive effort) prevail.
Easy to say, harder to do.
Each of us has our own practices that resonate most to access the second state: meditation, therapy, prayer, exercise, work, volunteering, etc.
Perhaps the challenge is recognizing when we’re slipping into the first state and finding the tools that work best for us to consciously return to the second.
How do you do it?
