The moment when you realize we don’t live in a culture of reflection. When you realize you’ve lived each passed moment in an instant, but as nothing more. It is a fleeting sentiment or apparition and then it is consumed, replaced, left to dissipate. We live in a culture of movement and forward progress, a world where the smart ones are looking forward, and the ones with their gaze reversed are pitied. Looking back is a sign of weakness, doubt, or an indication of pining over what is already gone. How are we expected to move forward without looking back. How can we understand our experience and feel its significance without seeing it more than once, without revelling in the feeling, and asking ourselves why. We may be moving quickly, but I worry about the direction in which we are headed. Getting there fast isn’t any good if there isn’t where you wanted to end up. We are afraid to see the imperfections and look back at our mistakes, so we mindlessly march into the biggest mistake of all.