Nostalgia-rama

I don’t know if it’s my age, the state of the world, watching my baby boy evolve towards middle school, the joys of perimenopause, or WHAT, but I keep falling over under these massive, relentless waves of nostalgia and drowning in tears. I choke a bit, then come back to reality, but the waves keep getting closer together and I’m not sure I can keep fighting the undertow.

Photo Credit Jeremy Bishop

And boy, howdy, does the internet algorithm have my number. Oh, we noticed you lingered a little while on this reel of a vintage 80s commercial for McDonald’s. Guess what you’ll be getting every other video now for the foreseeable future!? That’s right! Here’s a commercial from your childhood. And another! Remember this one? Remember how simple your life was? Remember before you had bills and responsibilities, and before there WAS an internet, and what it was like to play outside, and look, here are some Care Bears and Pound Puppies and wasn’t An American Tail a wonderful movie, and remember thinking about what riding Falkor felt like and how happy you were when it turned out E.T. was still alive?

Something deeper is at the heart of nostalgia, though, and it’s not good: it’s regret. Regret that things are no longer a way they once were, or regret that there’s no time anymore to enjoy what you once did. Or that those things don’t even exist now. Or that you wasted time doing other things and missed out on joys that have since been removed. That the last time you experienced something was, in fact, the VERY last time you would ever experience it again in your life. It knocks you over, sometimes. It makes it hard to breathe.

What’s the antidote to regret? Honestly - I don’t think there is one. It’s not something that can be cured.

But maybe… just maybe it’s something that can be prevented.

I’ve found myself, at so many different points in my life, feeling nostalgic for a ‘time that has passed’ - for those things I’ll never experience again. Living in the joys of the past while simultaneously ignoring the present and dreading the future. What’s the problem with that?

The problem is that THIS time, THIS present, RIGHT NOW - this holds joys that we’ll never see or feel again, too. If I allow myself to be miserable wishing for things in my past that won’t ever be again, I’ll miss these present moments.

I’ll miss my son being shorter than me, still reaching over to hold my hand, asking me to play basketball, or just smiling at me for no reason and saying, “I love you, Mom.”

I’ll miss my parents being nearby to have lunch, or tea, or chat about fishing rods, or do yardwork together, or go to the beach.

I’ll miss my body being able to get down on the floor and play with the dogs, or take a walk around the neighborhood in the sunshine.

I’ll miss the dogs.

I’ll miss gas being AS CHEAP as $3.99 a gallon.

I’ll miss music and art and books still being sometimes created by human beings instead of AI.

I’ll miss being this young.

I’ll miss writing.

The danger of wallowing in nostalgia is that we’re simply creating future nostalgia. It’s a trap. Sure, things were great when I was younger, and there are a lot of things I miss and I wish I could still do them or have them now. But if I let myself get sucked into the undertow, I’ll never get out - I’ll spend the rest of my life MISSING things that I could be LIVING.

They say, ‘Don’t blink’ but that’s terrible advice. Blink all you want. Blink away the tears of regret and build the life you were meant to live right this moment, whatever you want it to look like. Don’t take things for granted that are right in front of you while you wax sentimental about things that will no longer be.

I’ll be right there, doing my very best to blink along with you.

SJS