"There is no past, present, future."

I miss writing.

In reality, I'm writing all the time for work - but it's always about things in the financial industry. Which is just as exciting as it sounds.

Some of my favorite moments throughout my life have been spent writing. Not only that, but when you consistently write, you find yourself looking at the world differently; you pay attention to things that might make a good story. Eventually, that becomes a habit. A lovely, life-altering habit.

Back when I was completely focused on writing, I would look anywhere for fun or thought-provoking prompts. There are books of them, they're online, there are infinite places to find prompts.

But as I was reading (because I'm always reading) I realized there are writing "prompts" in every book I pick up (even the not-so-great ones).

So, I'm trying a new exercise; I'm going to pay closer attention to what I'm reading and try to find a quote that speaks to me to write about.

Here is this quote from "The Stationary Shop" by Marjan Kamali:

"She would not have understood, then, that time is not linear but circular. There is no past, present, furture. Roya was the woman she was today and the seventeen-year-old girl in the Stationary Shop, always."

I don't think it's a new concept that who we are today is based on who we've been in the past. These different versions of ourselves build layers and layers to create the person we are.

What I like about this phrase is that it makes me less nostalgic for my youth. (Note: I'm not the type of person who wishes she was still 25. Although I do wish I had the energy I had at 25.) It makes me feel like wherever I go, I'm taking all of those versions of myself with me. I'm still 17 just like I'm still 34, even though I'm 47. All of those Catherines are still around.

On the flip side, I have had moments when I've thought of myself as a different person from who I was in my 30s - and I don't mean that metaphorically. There are times when I look back at when I lost my husband and was raising babies on my own when I think of that woman as an entirely different person. I have so much compassion for her and what she went through. But sometimes it really doesn't feel like it was ME. Who was that woman?

In reality, she's still here, informing my decisions now, breathing a sigh of relief that those years are behind her, sometimes feeling sad because she misses cuddling those children in her lap, and patting the "me" I am now on the shoulder and saying, "Congratulations. You made it through."

So, she's still here, as is my future and present self.

Time truly is circular.