Last week I took a walk down memory lane, Zoe – and went back to the landscape of my childhood; perhaps the closest thing there is to time travel.
A flood of memories was unleashed the moment I stepped out of the tube station; this time, bizarrely, not looking down at my school skirt but at my own two children. New characters gathered along the way.
We emerged onto the streets I’d strolled as a 6, 11 and 18-year-old with a head full of dreams, eagerness, and yes, occasional disappointments; the set of budding lifelong friendships, first love, first pet, first gig, cosy Christmases, and seemingly never-ending summers.
The real nostalgia stirred though not on gazing at our old house but on visiting the church and grounds my dad used to be the minister of. I plopped my son and daughter on the step he’d deliver his sermons from, they cooed over a drumkit akin to the one my sister played there, and we explored the once familiar gardens, now transformed into an outdoor prayer walk; complete with remembrance ribbons for those no longer with us, the tree of change for reflecting on those switch-ups happening in our lives and a hopeful hopscotch with a comforting promise on each stone. A sacred space for me and many others, set apart from the bustling broadway outside.
It’s often said that looking back isn’t a wise thing to do, better instead to fix our eyes to the path ahead. But last week’s visit made me think otherwise. Returning to my old stomping ground brought events and people back to life. It was a day of strengthening that connection between who I have been and who I am now.
As I stood on this native ground, I felt such gratitude to the place and people that shaped and sustained me in my formative years – and such thanks too for the story that has unfolded, and the worlds I have inhabited, ever since.
I think I might’ve accidentally indulged (we were there for a kids play session after all!) in a bit of ‘place-therapy’ Zoe, as the trip brought about a kind of emotional wholeness, I’m still enjoying basking-in today!