On Flashbacks

This afternoon I visited my old high school. Despite the nearness of my alma mater, this was only the third time I had visited since my graduation a year and a half ago. I went to see my sister in a showcase featuring performances by the choirs and a one act play. Entering the auditorium was like putting on a familiar pair of jeans at the beginning of fall after having worn shorts for the duration of the hot summer months. It was a strange feeling to be surrounded by all those red chairs and those pale taupe walls, but at the same time, it felt somewhat natural. As a student, I had spent a lot of time in that auditorium. I have always been a theatre kid. For several months a year, that auditorium was a second home. A part of me felt like I belonged there. However, another part of me had pushed high school behind me. It is not that I am ashamed of my high school. My time there was wonderful, and I would not trade it, but that chapter of my life is over. I am very different from the boy who used to walk those halls. A very different actor would stand upon that stage today than the one who used to get the leads of so many shows. Nonetheless, as I spoke to my former director, revisited the scene shop and the wings of the stage, he was not so far away. That theatre, that school is a part of how I got where I am today. It would be impossible to deny that part of myself. I suppose you can take the boy out of Jimtown, but you can't take the Jimmie out of the boy. A part of me will probably always dislike Concord and Westview, and a part of me will always scoff at Laville. As unwarranted as these attitudes may be, I do not mind. They come from my heritage. I can prune myself as much as I like, but I still came from Jimtown, and it is a part of me.
I find myself drifting into the age old battle of free will theory vs. a whole is the sum of its parts. It is such a silly argument, at least, I seem to think so. I am no expert. However, it appears to me that it is both. Such drastically opposed arguments usually are. It is impossible to separate a person from their experiences. They shape our perceptions and and our understanding of forthcoming situations. Nevertheless, it is still possible to make a choice different from that for which they are conditioned based on how the person affects himself. Regardless of the choice, the mark made by past experiences always remains.
This became quite a different post than I expected it to be when I started writing. I just meant to expostulate on some of the qualms I had about reentering the halls of my youth (yeah, because it was SO long ago...), and suddenly I am getting philosophical about it. I am not quite sure how that happened. All that is to say, it was refreshing to return to my high school, and remember a bit of how I have become who I am. That's all.