The Power And Danger In Asking “What If?”

There’s power and danger in asking “What if?” More danger than power I think, although power comes with knowing we can’t take back past decisions. Power’s gained in growing through choices we regret and found in adapting to a normal we never imagined. 

Tonight’s post is a re-write of Life’s Turning Points, a post I wrote seven-and-a-half years ago. Rewritten because seven-and-a-half years is a lot of years to have discovered new “What ifs” and enough years to further learn that only by changing today are we able to change tomorrow. It’s also enough time to see that when we know something, we don’t really forget it, at least all the way.

Thinking about life’s “what if” moments, I wonder how different each of our lives would be had we taken a different route, a different job, or chosen a different country to live in. Would your child be the same person if you’d given birth to him earlier in life?

Married somebody else? Grew up with a different family?

Would you be the same?  

Would you be you?

There are moments in our lives when things change. Sometimes it’s the seemingly small things.  Sometimes, it’s the big ones. Turning points. The “What if?” moments. They change who we become.

The following are some of my “What if?” moments. Those that define who I am and made me me.

The Power And Danger In Asking “What If?”

Many moons ago, a stranger loved me enough to carry me in her body, grant me life, and chose to let other people raise me. What if I’d have grown up with different parents? Different siblings? Would I still be me? Or would I be a version of myself unrecognizable to now-me? 

What if I were more confident in school? What if I’d accepted kindness when it was offered rather than feeling shy and embarrassed to be myself? Looking back, the coolest of kids were more like me than I knew.  

What if I’d stayed home for college? I went to school out of state and found friends that have the ability to see me through moments of darkness and moments of levity. Friends with whom I’ve shared minutes and hours so powerful and unique that there is not a word that exists to describe them. If I’d stayed in my home state for college, would I still have found them? 

What if I’d married the bad boy I loved too much when we were 18 years old? Would I still be me?

There’s power and danger in asking “What if?” It’s the parallel universe thing, I suppose. The sliding doors and two minutes or two seconds changing our reality. 

What if Robert and I were 10 years younger than we are today, with the same son, in the same place? Luckily, aliens told me I can’t change my past.

It’s possible I’d have turned down the job that took me from Colorado to Virginia. Would I have found Robert regardless? I don’t think so. There’s also the full-circle wondering of the what if. Had I moved there, and not found him, would I have moved back to Colorado again? Now, able to help my dad, with a near-by brother? 

New roads.  New and now what if moments.

There are what-if moments in life.  Decisions and circumstances shape our future, our fears, and define what our celebrations look like.

There are times when these moments are consuming and overwhelming. But mostly? The what-if moments are reminders of the gift we call today, and tomorrow, and hope, and the next best beautiful thing. 

These moments are a reminder that we’re here, and no matter who remembers us later, we will have always been here. The what-if moments are reminders to take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and look around. To embrace the tears along with our laughter. To remember on our death beds that we are here. We are here.

There’s Power and Danger In Asking “What If?”

But it’s a good power and one that reminds us we’re here, now. We can do good things, now. My wish for myself and for you is that we remember this, each day.

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This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post, with the prompt of “What if?” using the beautiful photo below (credit to Tim Wright). The photo Finish the Sentence Friday posts are co-hosted by the fabulous Mardra Sikora, of Grown Ups and Downs.