When I was young

and the worlds were new,

the future was cloudy, 

unformed,

The possibilities endless…

Free (or so it seemed) to explore them 

for myself.

I had not yet learned to feel the pull

of the timelines, 

the pull of my future self

drawing me towards the life I was to live. 

I did as my heart wanted,

I learned…

And felt everything,

and was little concerned with how it all would

turn out.

But, 

Interests began to show,

the “whys” and the “how comes”, 

became important.

An acting career didn’t  make sense 

anymore… but the skills learned, 

Yes,

those were precious and never forgotten. 

Being an astronaut was impossible,

but science and technology became loves 

that will never die.

And then the first pull from my future self,

the need to rescue people… 

to help,

it was no longer all about me. 

When I was older and came to Myself,

as I created my life, one decision at a time, 

I felt the pull.

Not of one future, but at every corner I felt the tug,

Of the road not taken.

Begging me to go this way or that, “forget the plan, let’s see how this turns out”.

But in the end the strongest pull was from me…

From the now.

I had no idea of what was happening, 

I now know that I felt the timelines,

the knowledge, in every atom of my being,

that if I made a different decision, my life would unfold

“differently”, and that was wrong.

I felt the timelines’ pull and the sure singular call of the “right one” 

through the uncertainty, through the doubt, 

through the temptations, and the wild ideas…

I heard the call from myself,

calling me home to the now that all of my selves  created.

And now, when I am where I chose to be

and the pull of the worldlines is nearly imperceptible,

When I’m quiet and alone, I find myself remembering…

I’m remembering (vividly), the lives I have lived if I’d made other choices.

The house with the wrap-around porch,

The apartment in a skyscraper, 

The fame, the recognition, and the sadness and loneliness. 

I remember the regrets, the humiliations,

The realization that the parties were not worth my life.

And… I remember my deaths.

So many memories come to me now, of places, people, and things

I’ve never seen or met,

And yet… I have.

As I write this, I realize that those of me that lived those lives are reporting in.

Letting me know, that, in the end,

the most successful timeline

Is the one I’m on now.