THERE'S A REASON THEY CALL IT A "BLAST"

Being visited suddenly by something or someone from your past, I am convinced, calls up something more than mere psychic nostalgia. The older I get, the more convinced I am that these notorious "blasts from the past" are an actual physiological phenomenon; that they produce real chemical reactions in the brain and in other parts of the body that, in turn, produce some type of euphoric event.

This has happened to me in the past few days. A voice from the past has spoken up, and I've paid attention. Every inch of my brain and spine are licked with every last detail of the events of years ago. My body has literally had a physical reaction to this occurrence. It's like being punched in the face, only not as subtle. Whoever posited the theory that we are the sum of the things we do and feel must have been on to something. I want to stay in this spot, in this particular time and place, for the rest of my life. It's like some wonderful dream from which I have no desire to awake.

I remember the person I was, the things I said and did, the things that were said and done to me, all rolled up into a snowball of vivid recollection. It's an interesting little dance we do with the past. While there is the tried and true cliche of not dwelling there and allowing it to consume us, there is also the undeniable truth that the past shapes us, and molds us into who we are today. As such, it can never be fully irrelevant or a mere theoretical entity to be shoved aside when it coincides with our present day comfort. It has to be nurtured and respected, and granted unlimited access when the need so calls.