Nostalgia by Linda Stowe
“I have come to feel that a part of nostalgia is missing who you were at the time. Like, I wish I could feel as intensely about a thing as I did back then, but I can’t because I’m dead inside now. I am reluctant to post this and might delete it in the morning because I’m deconstructing the last 20 years of my life right here.”
One of my Facebook friends posted this around midnight last night. This guy lives in Michigan and, although I have no idea how we got linked on Facebook, we’ve been “friends” for a couple of years now. He is quite an interesting, quirky fellow and has hundreds of online friends. Most of his posts are of his AI artwork or pictures of his cat, Bacon. His posts have always been witty with a touch of darkness to them. This was something else. It is one of the most honest posts I’ve seen on Facebook, and I was not alone in noticing and responding to him.
I was curious about my friend’s definition of “nostalgia” because to my mind nostalgia is a positive feeling about the good old days. My friend says he once read that the word nostalgia came about in the first world war. A doctor was trying to diagnose soldiers’ unexplained illnesses. They became physically ill from being unable to be home. Thus, the doctor defined nostalgia as a sickness that comes from not being able to go to the place where you belong. My friend said that described his feeling except rather than yearning for a place, he yearns for a time in his life. A time when he felt more alive. Judging from my friend’s previous posts, that time was the ‘80s.
I am sorry that this is such a long story, but each detail seems important as I shape the narrative. I think the honesty of this man’s post speaks to those times in each of our lives when we have felt stale or burned out. However, if we take a moment and put things into perspective, we often see that such emotionally fallow times are necessary. They give us the opportunity to develop new interests and sow the seeds for new passions. Passion is not just for the young. It’s available to anyone who still nurtures their sense of curiosity.
Of course, my glib summation of the situation is small comfort to this man sitting alone in Michigan with only his cat and a few hundred disembodied friends for solace.
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Polly here.
All I can say is this. What we once were is still a part of us now. But we are different now. And hopefully, the difference is better.
Nostalgia by Linda Stowe
