UNLOCKING THE PAST by Alex Searle

I have long been captivated by the study of history… As a child, I devoured books about the great battles, legendary figures and grand civilisations that shaped our world. Ancient Greece, with its philosophers and foundational ideas about democracy and reason. Egypt, with its towering monuments and desert mysteries. Mesopotamia, where Uruk and Babylon first laid the groundwork for urban life, and the enigmatic societies of Mesoamerica, whose achievements in astronomy, architecture and art still hold secrets we have yet to fully understand. ​

I'm often devouring great podcasts like The Rest is History or Dan Carlin's Hardcore History to keep my addiction to the topic alive and well. But beyond the allure of these ancient worlds, what has always intrigued me most about history is its ability to reveal the patterns of change. Wars, revolutions, golden ages and declines all tell a story far greater than individual events: they reveal the cycles and patterns of our human nature.

When studied curiously, history offers a mirror in which we can see ourselves, as part of a much longer, unfolding story. The past, as I once heard it described, is something that no longer is, but somehow always was. In that paradox, it holds a power unlike anything else: to teach, to warn, and to remind us of who we are now because of who we were.

THE PRESENCE OF THE PAST
If we take this same lens of historical inquiry and apply it inward - to ourselves as individuals- the journey naturally ends up back at the start of our own personal history: childhood, adolescence and the first formative experiences that shaped us.

Here, an interesting contradiction emerges. Our earliest memories, our first loves, the schools we attended, the teachers who inspired us, the moments that first sparked a passion within us: these experiences feel deeply personal, uniquely ours. And yet, they are also entirely universal. The details differ from person to person, but the shape of the journey is one we all share. Across cultures and generations, the human experience carries common threads of joy, pain, loss and discovery.

Our pasts are both personal and collective, intimate and archetypal. And it is in this paradox that we find one of the most valuable keys to understanding ourselves. Keeping the experience of our past alive are our memories. Memory is not just a function of the mind - it lives in the body. Our nervous system, the intricate network of electrical and chemical activity, carries not just nutrients and signals, but also physical imprints of our lived experiences.

We often think of memory as something stored solely in the factory behind our eyes, but neuroscience very clearly tells us otherwise: our bodies also remember. The way our shoulders tense in response to stress, the instinctive clenching of the jaw in moments of fear, the deep sense of comfort or dread when we walk into a familiar space - all of these are echoes of past experiences, as though we carry an emotional accounting record in our pockets.

​Some memories are vivid, easy to recall. Others, especially those linked to deeper emotional wounds, operate beneath our conscious awareness. In fact, the stronger the emotion tied to an experience (joy, grief, fear) the more deeply that the body has stored it, shaping how we react to the present without us even realising it.

This is where the past becomes a quiet but persistent architect of our present self. The challenge then becomes ours to notice it.

THE LONG TAIL OF TRAUMA
The word trauma often conjures images of extreme suffering, of war, abuse and tragedy. While these are certainly forms of trauma, the reality is that trauma exists on a wider, more nuanced spectrum. Sometimes, it's dramatic. Other times, it is a quiet, gradual conditioning that shapes how we see the world and our place in it.

One of the most difficult aspects of unresolved emotional wounds is that the deeper they run, the harder they can be to access. The mind, in its attempt to protect us, buries pain deep beneath layers of rationalisation, denial or numbness (or a combination of all three). But buried does not mean gone. These imprints still play out in our emotions, relationships and patterns of thinking, often without us realising why.

Take, for example, a child who grows up witnessing a painful divorce. Even if they process it intellectually and believe they have 'moved on', that early experience can unconsciously shape their approach to relationships for decades. They may struggle with trust, find themselves repeating familiar dynamics, or self-sabotage when things feel too good (patterns rooted not in who they are today, but in what they once survived). The older they get, the harder it is to even spot these patterns, let alone change them.

This is true for so many aspects of life. We carry old narratives, beliefs and unexamined fears into our present without realising they were never meant to be permanent. The past, when unexamined, controls us more than we care to admit.

In this way, it can feel as though the past is never really in the past. It walks with us, influencing our choices, our self-perceptions and our ability to connect with others. The challenge, and the opportunity, is to make the unconscious conscious, so that we can heal, release and move forward.

WE CARRY BOTH THE MEDICINE AND THE POISON
To reflect on our past is to hold both light and shadow in our hands.

As my friend Michael Boyle put it, we each carry both the medicine and the poison. The past can be a teacher or a tyrant, a source of wisdom or a weight that holds us down. What determines which it will be is not the past itself, but how we engage with it - and engaging starts with noticing, becoming aware and curious about your own behaviour and beliefs (possibly even for the first time ever). Like history itself, our past is neither purely good nor bad. It contains the potential for both, and yet none at all. The moment of consequence is that we can choose how to relate to it.

Once again, this presents another paradox of the past: things that happened are set in time and memory, yet they can also be re-examined, reshaped and moulded again. We are not prisoners of who we were, what we did or thought, and that needs to become a felt knowledge right down to the body level.

The truth is that this is not just an intellectual exercise, which is why you'll find the opportunity within Humble Mind to study it from a number of angles, whether it's through reflection, dialogue with other members or mini-realisations you may have during our events. I'm deliberately using the word study as an indication of how to regard your own past and its tremendous power: at a safe distance, we can examine and learn from it, while not becoming consumed.

​The invitation to explore as deeply as you'd like is yours for the taking. We welcome its lessons, honour its impact and, most importantly, ensure that it does not define who we are.

The past is not our identity. It is a part of you, but it's all of you. Once again, study is the key word. The past is a reference point to study and learn from, not an inevitable destination. When we hold it at the right distance - not too tightly, not too far - we create the space needed to fully engage with the present and move toward a more fulfilling present (and future).

TOOLS FOR UNLOCKING THE POWER OF THE PAST
Here are some ways to engage with your personal history in a meaningful way as we've discussed:

●     Deep reflection: Journaling, meditating or simply taking quiet time to revisit your past experiences with an open curiosity rather than judgement
●     Letting go: Identifying old narratives, limiting beliefs or studying past wounds that no longer serve you and actively choosing to release them
●     Reading autobiographies: Learning from those who have reflected deeply on their own journeys can offer new, unexpectedly useful perspectives on your own
●     Speaking to someone you trust: Whether a mentor, therapist, a close friend or a fellow community member here, sharing your story in a safe space can help bring clarity and understanding
●     The value of vulnerability: Being open to exploring past wounds with honesty and courage. This begins with the act of asking for help when you need it, which has the wonderful additional benefit of building trust with another person

I hope that this has been helpful.

AN INVITATION TO REFLECT WITH AN EXERCISE
Take a moment to do this:

Imagine that your past (warts 'n all) is a small object you can hold in your hand, such as a tennis ball or apple. Hold it in your hand and look at it, imbuing it with all the energy of your past experiences. Sit with it for a while and notice your breathing. Now, find an optimal distance to hold the object at. Is it close-up, right by your face? Is it further away at a full arm's length? Don't judge, just notice your comfortability level and how your body responds to it.

Our pasts are not chains. They are maps to be studied. ∎

Join the Humble Mind community:
https://awarenow.us/join/humble-mind

Find & follow Humble Mind on Instagram:
@humblemindofficial