#16: You Remember Me. But You Don't Know Me.

Sitting here at the fire this morning, watching the flames dance, my mind keeps wandering to something I heard recently.

"Many people from your past know a version of you that no longer exists."

That one hit me.

There are people who knew me 20 years ago who probably wouldn't recognize the person I am today. And I'm not just talking about the gray hair or the fact that my knees make noises they didn't used to.

I'm talking about who I am.

I've made mistakes. Said things I wish I could take back. Mishandled relationships. Let pride get in the way of good judgment. There are moments I look back on and genuinely wonder what I was thinking.

And if I'm being honest, there are probably people who remember me for those very moments.

The hard part is knowing they aren't necessarily wrong.

I was that person. I made those decisions. And just because I've grown doesn't mean those things didn't happen.

But sitting here this morning, watching the flames constantly move and change, I'm reminded of something.

At what point does regret stop teaching us and start stealing from us?

I've spent more time than I'd like to admit replaying conversations, wishing I'd handled things differently, or wondering what someone thinks about me today.

It's funny how we can spend an entire evening mentally arguing with someone who probably hasn't thought about us in years.

Meanwhile, life is happening right in front of us.

Our kids are growing up. Relationships are changing. There are conversations to have, memories to make, and people who need us to be present.

Yet sometimes we're so distracted by the person we used to be that we forget to appreciate the person we're becoming.

I think there's a difference between taking responsibility for your past and allowing it to define your present.

Regret can be a good teacher. It reminds us where we got it wrong. It helps us become better spouses, parents, friends, and leaders. But eventually, we have to take the lesson and move forward.

Not everyone will recognize your growth. Some people will always see you through the lens of who you were when they knew you. And maybe that's okay.

Because the goal isn't to convince everyone from your past that you've changed.

The goal is to make sure the people in your present experience that change.

As I sit here watching the flames, I realize they never really hold the same shape. They're constantly moving, changing, becoming something different from one moment to the next.

Maybe we're supposed to be that way too.

I can't go back and be a better 24-year-old. But I can be a better 44-year-old.

And someday, I don't want to look back on this season of life and realize I was so busy regretting yesterday that I missed today.

The past deserves honesty.

But the present deserves our attention.

Keep the fire burning. 🔥