Many whose youths were marked by passionate action come to regret such drama later in life, i.e., come to see that similar outcomes could have been reached more gracefully without so much unsettled behaviour. At such time that this conclusion is reached, one may think one should "go back" but we all know there is no such thing - to do so is equally as extreme for it would require a loosening of all ties established in the mean time in the same way that the first dramatic movement required the loosening of whatever ties extant.
A challenge remains: to be a person. One may review recent malchance. It is recommended not to speak into the voice of the storm; the necessary shouts and echoes are bound to be garbled, one will not make sense unless one can reduce their message to the minimum of Morse code. Once the storm has passed, one can take account of the damage, what remains.
Here is the controversy: essence can never be lost; only attributes that may weigh one down with worry can be lost. If it was yours, you will find it again: loss is a belief. That is a maxim I see testified to by the likes of many from diverse backgrounds. Sometimes if one thinks one has lost something and then disaster strikes and one loses even more, this can be an aid and a gain.
There are quite a number of intellectuals in this age ostensibly willing to question myths we buy into about the meaning of our lives but actually peddle another myth in their place. To stop and to listen to the birds, daily, to hear the breeze rustle the trees just like it does in the groves across from the Pantheon in Athens, is to hear something else about being alive.
Maybe one really thinks that their degree unto itself will bring them a shield when they need one. Yet friends may be a better shield. We go crazy for our own versions of glass beads, accomplishments we wear with thrust out chests, yet one wonders at the spirit in which it was all attained - far more loyal and a greater inspiration for waking up to face the day may be something that cannot be qualified at all.
After the malchance, what has clung to one still smiling? To work with what one has without worrying over expectation; a dialectics resolving any growth from the nothing that is the necessity of maieutics. 有心栽花花不开，无心插柳柳成荫.
Book in background: Midwest Modern; brush: grunge by ewanism on DeviantART.