“It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”  Alice, realizing how her perspective has changed.

I have always been obsessed with Alice in Wonderland. When I was a kid, I loved it for the wonderful and cooky characters. The Cheshire Cat, the Caterpillar with his vowels, Tweedledee and Tweedledum, The Queen of Hearts and of course the inimitable Mad Hatter. I will admit the white rabbit held a special place in my heart as he rushed about going nowhere.

I have often related to that effort so many times in my life.

The tea party, the mushrooms and all the other craziness Alice endured on her journey seemed like a fun story in a crazy place.

Of course as I grew older, I realized the metaphor for the journey into adulthood, but I chose to ignore that truth. I prefer to think of wonderland as a place filled with funny creatures, tea cakes and hats with price tags hanging off of them. Now that I think of it, probably where late comedienne Minnie Pearl got the idea.

The tag’s price of 10 shillings and sixpence supposedly represents individuality and embracing your own uniqueness.  

The reality is that Alice’s journey is all of us seeking to achieve the goal of growth and wisdom as we wander through wonderland. Or as it’s put so succinctly in the book by the Cheshire Cat, “We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.”

Our lives are filled with crazy creatures and cake and tea as we struggle through the lessons thrust upon us by some force in charge of our destiny.

So why is Alice such a universally loved and cherished part of our childhoods and our culture.

Why does it seem to endure through all the technology, AI and so-called movement forward in human innovation?

Despite the arc of a lifetime of risks, rewards and hard-fought lessons, there is something so positive about the fall into that land of craziness and adventure that never gets old. Never changes and remains filled with lessons to which we can return and feel welcome.

It’s as though life’s tough moments seem less so in Wonderland. Just sitting around a table filled with tea cakes and beautiful china.

One of my favorite lines, among many gleaned from Alice was “It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”

Brilliant in its brevity and substantial in its genius.

Just two lines that sum up one of the great questions of human existence.

Would we change anything if we could go backward in time?

Tempting as it might be to believe we could change the past, undo mistakes or redo our life’s arc, it would be a useless effort.

This miracle couldn’t occur unless we could go back in time knowing what we do now. Being the person we became and feeling as we do now about our existence.

So what would stop us from change despite being a different person then?

I believe it would be fear.

The temptation of redoing our existence would be heavily colored by the inherent fear we’d throw off the balance. Innocently change something so significant we’d lose what we love.

A road not taken, a door not entered, a promise not kept.

Even the most inconsequential moments may not prove to be so small after all.

A moment too late to meet a soul mate, a career opportunity overlooked and unanswered, a special bond with a mentor that led to a destiny fulfilled.

Are there really any small moments, at least that we can determine?

So when Alice says she is a different person, of course she would be making decisions based on the old Alice, ignorant of who she ultimately became.

Before, the mushrooms, before the courtroom and before the Queen of Hearts. She was Alice. Young, naïve and lacking in the wisdom to make the choices, seek the counsel and embrace the people that would mold her existence.

Eating the mushrooms, a lesson in moderation and judgement. Too much mushroom, too tall to get through the door. Too little doesn’t work either. Is the lesson here there is always a perfect amount in the end? Moderation is the key to moving through the door? Or do mushrooms simply signify the physical and psychological agony of puberty often leading to helplessness.

So, is there a perfect amount?  Wouldn’t it vary from person to person? Aren’t the mushrooms also a lesson in individuality? Choosing what’s good for you. What will work best within the parameters of your own life, independent of others? An inch here or there and it all still works.

There are so many metaphors for life one never thinks about while simply embracing Alice’s journey.

The Rabbit Hole is a leap into the unknown. Brave, unaware and relying on our subconscious. Chasing the white rabbit is pure trust and innocence in the future that lies beyond.

The Caterpillar serves as a catalyst for Alice’s growth and metamorphosis. Maturing and navigating adulthood.

Lest we forget the Queen of Hearts. She signifies tyranny. “Off with their heads!” is symbolic of unchecked power.

The Cheshire Cat one of my favorites, is deception personified. The partially disappearing body and creepy smile, represents deceit and a highly subjective universe. The hidden garden references the Garden of Eden. The search for it represents unreachable splendor, the loss of innocence, and aspiration.

The confusion of Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Can there be absolutes or is everything actually a bit imperfect or even the same?

Alice is clear while confusing. Answers that raise more questions and filled with life lessons and challenges disguised as a childhood dream.

Isn’t Alice’s journey representative of ours as we traverse this place where “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.” Those words seem truer to me each day. Curiouser and curiouser.

Perhaps Lewis Carroll knew something we didn’t and it’s all a dream after all. In the meantime, tea and cakes can make the journey more pleasant. And couldn’t celebrating an unbirthday be a perfect way to spend an ordinary day? More tea please, Mad Hatter.