Actually, I was thinking of my past in a largely non-religious context. (If that's the part you were referring to.)
Specifically, I was thinking that my past, despite its sins, flaws, missteps, the times I've hurt people, and the times I've been stupid, is not waiting for the present me to do some great deed of intelligence and kindness so that it can be made sense of. My history is not dependent on my present action to turn it into some kind of 'preface to greatness'; it'll continue to exist, sins and harms and joys and all, no matter what I do. I can't make it any better or worse by my present deeds; I can't undo the cruelties I've done or the joys I've felt.
The religious aspect comes in because I was in prayer, and thinking about how much I hated who I have been--for being blind, or cruel, or ignorant--and desperately wanting to do a Great Deed to redeem my past selves. And Her response to my prayer was the feeling that this was, somehow, missing the point. That I can neither walk away from my past nor be constantly struggling to undo it. What I have done, I have done. I must now learn from it; bear guilt or shame; but accept who I was. I was missing the point: the point, I think, is that my actions today will be the past that I carry with me tomorrow, and that this must weight my choices.
no subject
Specifically, I was thinking that my past, despite its sins, flaws, missteps, the times I've hurt people, and the times I've been stupid, is not waiting for the present me to do some great deed of intelligence and kindness so that it can be made sense of. My history is not dependent on my present action to turn it into some kind of 'preface to greatness'; it'll continue to exist, sins and harms and joys and all, no matter what I do. I can't make it any better or worse by my present deeds; I can't undo the cruelties I've done or the joys I've felt.
The religious aspect comes in because I was in prayer, and thinking about how much I hated who I have been--for being blind, or cruel, or ignorant--and desperately wanting to do a Great Deed to redeem my past selves. And Her response to my prayer was the feeling that this was, somehow, missing the point. That I can neither walk away from my past nor be constantly struggling to undo it. What I have done, I have done. I must now learn from it; bear guilt or shame; but accept who I was. I was missing the point: the point, I think, is that my actions today will be the past that I carry with me tomorrow, and that this must weight my choices.