The Gift of Looking Back

We often hear the phrase “don’t look back”—as if our past holds us hostage or distracts us from the present. But what if looking back isn’t about getting stuck in old stories or regrets, but rather a quiet invitation to remember what we’ve come through, what we’ve seen, and how life has gently shaped us along the way?

I’ve spent over four decades in the personal development field, and if there’s one thing I’ve come to see, it’s that nothing from our past is wasted. Even the messy bits. Especially the messy bits.

In my 60s now, with more behind me than ahead, I find myself looking back more often—but not with nostalgia or regret. I look back to listen. To see the threads. To recognize the grace I couldn’t see at the time. And to marvel at how every single detour, breakdown, heartbreak, and unexpected turn somehow carried a seed that would blossom later.

Life Doesn’t Waste Anything
There were times in my life when I would have preferred to skip ahead. Times when it felt like life had gotten it all wrong. But when I look back now, I can see the deeper intelligence that was always at work—even when I couldn’t feel it.

I remember being in my 30s, full of ambition and seeking success in all the ways I thought I should. I was ticking boxes, making plans, and doing all the “right things.” But something always felt off, like I was chasing a version of life that didn’t fit. Back then, I thought the discomfort was a sign I needed to try harder or fix myself.

But when I look back now, I see that discomfort for what it was: wisdom. A subtle nudge from life saying, “Not this way.”

That wisdom—though often disguised as restlessness, sadness, or confusion—was always present. It didn’t come from books or experts. It came from the stillness beneath the noise of my thoughts. The same stillness that’s here now, when I pause to listen.

Seeing Through New Eyes
One of the most beautiful things about revisiting the past from a quieter, more present place is that you begin to see it through new eyes.

Instead of judging or analysing, I now simply notice. I see how much of my struggle came from believing thoughts that weren’t true. Thoughts that said I wasn’t enough. That I needed to achieve more. That something was missing.

And yet, when I look closer, I see that even those false beliefs had a role to play. They eventually wore me out in just the right way. They brought me to my knees—humbled, cracked open, and willing to see life differently.

I used to think transformation came from striving. Now I see it comes from softening.

The Beauty of Broken Places
Looking back has also helped me soften toward the parts of myself I used to judge. The insecure teenager. The anxious young mother. The woman who pushed too hard, said the wrong thing, stayed too long, or left too soon.

There’s something deeply healing about honouring our younger selves—not to indulge them, but to acknowledge their innocence. To see how hard they tried. To thank them for getting us here.

I used to cringe at some of my past choices. Now I see them with tenderness. They were made from the level of understanding I had at the time. And from that understanding, they made perfect sense.

There’s no point in arguing with the past. It’s not a puzzle to solve. It’s a story that continues to reveal its meaning as we grow.

Let the Past Serve You, Not Define You
One of the greatest gifts of looking back with presence is that it liberates us from being defined by the past. We don’t have to drag it forward like a heavy suitcase. But we can let it inform us. Guide us. Humble us. Remind us of how far we’ve come.

Every time I revisit a moment that once felt impossible, I remember that I survived. I learned. I healed. And that gives me courage when life feels uncertain again—which it always will.

Looking back isn’t about staying stuck in the past. It’s about honouring the terrain we’ve crossed so we can walk forward with more clarity, more compassion, and more trust in life itself.

There’s Nothing to Fix
One of the most profound things I’ve seen over the years is that there’s nothing broken in us. Our default setting is wellbeing. Peace is not something we earn—it’s something we return to.

Looking back helps us see this truth more clearly. We see the times we were carried, even when we felt lost. We see the moments of grace that arrived when we stopped trying to figure everything out. We see how life keeps offering us a new beginning, moment to moment.

You don’t have to wait to become someone else to feel whole. The version of you reading these words—right now—is already enough. Already wise. Already whole.

Let Life Surprise You
If I’ve learned anything from the past, it’s that life has a way of surprising us—often when we let go of the reins.

Some of the most beautiful chapters of my life weren’t the ones I planned. They emerged when I surrendered. When I stopped trying to control every outcome and started listening more deeply.

Looking back reminds me that the future rarely looks like we imagine. And that’s a good thing. Life is far more creative than we are.

Let the Thread Lead You
There’s a thread running through your life. Maybe you’ve seen it. Maybe you haven’t. But it’s there.

It’s the thread that pulls you toward what feels real. The thread that whispers, “This way.” The thread that connects your past to your present to your future—not as a straight line, but as a spiral, an unfolding, a dance.

Looking back helps you trace that thread. Not to hold on to it, but to see where it’s leading. It reminds you that there’s always been something bigger at play. Something trustworthy. Something that knows the way—even when you don’t.

You’re Already on the Path
So if you find yourself looking back lately, let it be an act of reverence. Of gratitude. Of curiosity.

Let it be a way of seeing how much you’ve grown, how much you’ve learned, and how deeply life loves you.

And then, when you’re ready, turn toward what’s next—not with fear, but with openness.

You don’t need to have it all figured out. Just bring your whole self forward. The one who’s walked through fire and joy, tears and triumph. The one who knows how to get back up. The one who’s never really been lost.

You are not starting over. You are continuing the sacred unfolding of your life.

Look back. And then walk on.

“If the only thing people learned was not to be afraid of their experience, that alone would change the world.”
Sydney Banks