I Visit

I visit
A domain within me;
Just mind,
No walls or doors.
Painted by time and
Emotion are landscapes of memory.

I visit,
I visit always,
Every reason but none in particular.
Sometimes I go to cry.
Tears on fields of regret fall
Watering seeds of ‘what-ifs’
that never seem to bloom,‌
But always present to visit

I visit.
A roundabout of the mind
I turn and turn around
Different horses but the same journey
I start and finish in the same place

I visit.
Sometimes I visit stars
Of missed chances to make my wishes
Sometimes I visit to thank
Ghosts of days gone by

I visit.
This familiar cage,
Which will never let me go.
I carry this place around
Even there on bright days are its shadows.

I visit
Here as a captain and crewman,
Difficult journey through stormy thoughts,
However much I try to find a way back home
But am caught up by drifting currents.

I visit
When I’m lost
In the maze of the present tense.
Sometimes I visit
Hoping yesterday will soon
Become today.

Repeating the same thing
But expecting different outcomes
It is a memory of visiting
I often do.

I visit.
I always visit.
For in visiting, I am,
Both lost and found again.

The Mind’s Time Machine

Wow, this really captures something we all do, doesn’t it? It’s like we’ve got this secret room in our heads that we can’t help but visit. It’s not just thinking – it’s time travel, emotion diving, and soul searching all rolled into one.

You know, this reminds me of what the philosopher Henri Bergson called “duration.” He thought our inner experience of time wasn’t like a ticking clock, but more like a melody that carries all its notes within it. Every time we visit these inner landscapes, we’re not just remembering – we’re reliving, reshaping.

And those “what-ifs” that never bloom but are always there to visit? That’s hitting on something the existentialists grappled with. Sartre talked about how we’re haunted by the ghosts of all the choices we didn’t make. It’s like we’re always carrying around these alternate versions of ourselves.

The roundabout of the mind, turning and turning – that’s not just going in circles. It’s like what the psychologist James Hillman called “soul-making.” Sometimes we need to revisit the same ground to dig deeper, to find new meaning in old experiences.

Now, that bit about carrying this place around, its shadows there even on bright days? That’s some heavy truth right there. It’s like what Carl Jung meant when he talked about the shadow self. We can’t escape our inner worlds, but maybe that’s not the point. Maybe it’s about integration, not escape.

And that captain and crewman metaphor? That’s hitting on something deep about how we relate to ourselves. It’s like what the philosopher Daniel Dennett calls the “multiple drafts” model of consciousness. We’re not just one unified self, but many selves trying to steer the ship together.

So what does this mean for us? Well, maybe it’s about recognizing that these visits aren’t just idle daydreaming. They’re part of how we make sense of our lives, how we grow and change.

Remember, every visit to this inner domain is a chance for insight, for healing, for rediscovery. Sure, sometimes we might get caught in those drifting currents of regret or what-ifs. But we’re also the captains of our own minds. We can choose to steer towards understanding, towards growth.

As the poet T.S. Eliot said, “We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.” Every visit to your inner world is a chance to know yourself anew.

Take those inner journeys. Visit those landscapes of memory. Just remember, you’re not just a passenger in your own mind – you’re the explorer, the cartographer, the meaning-maker. In visiting, you’re not just remembering who you were – you’re creating who you are.