We all remember our early years and sometimes think how cool it would be to come back in time, become a child again and experience everything, again. I’ve seen several movies exploiting the idea of a parent and a child being locked in each other’s bodies. And every time I thought, well, it’s hard for a child to adapt to an adult world, but a grown-up practically goes home. Everything is familiar if a bit hazy after the long years of businesslike fussing around.
We are rooted in our childhood, and coming back to these roots would be a return to our thoughtless, carefree existence. Or that’s what we think. If you suddenly turned twelve instead of forty it would give you a chance to start life anew and pay attention to things you considered to be insignificant though later they turned out to be quite important; you would want to use opportunities you missed; you would avoid all mistakes you made. It would be another chance in life, it would be a second life.
The question is if you want a second life when you still have the first one flowing through you. Remembering future would deprive you of spontaneity the unknown gives. Yes, you would be more successful as a result, you’d achieve much more in the material world just because you’d be better prepared for it and would know at which door to knock, but would you be happy stepping into the same river again? And would it be still the same river? No, I’m afraid not. It wouldn’t be the same life anymore, with all the mistakes fixed and opportunities used. I’m not even sure it would be the same you. It would rather be someone else who had his childhood replaced with constant fixing the errors of previous, original life.
Thinking about all this I don’t want to come back to try everything again even if I could. Let the past be the past. I will simply enjoy remembering it, visiting it, once in a while, in my mind and becoming my 12-year-old self in any moment I want.