I'll get to the nostalgia in a little bit, but first I just have to say thanks to those of you who check this little site sometimes. I was on a roll there with February's 'story a day' goal, which I almost completed perfectly. During that month, I know (and am still finding out about) people who began checking in here regularly. I finally started building up a teeny tiny little readership of friends, and then March rolled around and I stopped writing.
I thought today about beginning 'story a day' again tomorrow, being that it's a new month, but I'm daunted by that thought. I understand that that's the point of creating something for yourself, nothing comes easy or falls into your lap from a flowery tree. These things take time and effort (tons of effort). Reaching into my mind and pulling out a story every day is painfully hard at times.
I went through the same agony over and over: 'I don't have a story in me right now, I'll write when I get home from work' Then I'd get home from work, and want to relax for a moment, but if I relaxed the story wouldn't happen, so I had to get to it right away while my mind was still in GO mode. Wine helps though, wine always helps.
Anyway, again, I just wanted to say thanks to those of you who diligently traveled the writing journey with me, and those of you who still pop by, only to be disappointed as I seem to write only once every couple of weeks now.
Photo by Miguel Jacob
Now for the nostalgia. I suppose there isn't too much to be said on this topic, or rather, there is SO much to be said about it that I don't think I can tackle it. While out with some of my oldest girlfriends last night, we got onto the topic of nostalgia for a bit. I have realized that I am absolutely hyper-nostalgic, so much that it nearly prevents me from doing anything at times. All it takes is one song on the ipod and I'm shuttled back in time so deeply that it exhausts me. Some days I get to work completely beat, and it's simply because my 45 minute commute felt like a 20 year travel through my brain. I can recall insane amounts of detail, such as the tile on my bathroom floor on Broadview, and the bath mat (which was not a true bath mat) that lay on top of it. Memories of tile and grout are among the detailed things which pop into my head at the drop of a tune, and this is merely the surface.
While I agree that it seems I live in the past too much, it's not all exactly living in the past. I can be presently in the moment, while remembering the way my skin couldn't breathe in the shiny purple coat I wore when I was 21, walking down Eglinton to my first apartment, listening to the same song as now, only on a discman.
This feeling of nostalgia can actually bring a true smile to your face, though it may at times feel bitter-sweet (the passing of time becoming all the more obvious). I pose a little challenge to you tonight. When you are sitting on your couch at home, close your eyes and think of one of your livingrooms of long ago. Imagine yourself being back there again. Dig deep, and open your mind's eye, look around that room of old, in your memory, what does the floor look like? The carpet? What does the couch feel like under your bum? Take in the room, and then if you like, take a little walk down the hallway and into your old bedroom. It's surprising how many memories may shine bright, and you may be surprised at how many are still there. Every moment you have lived has brought you to this one, so from time to time, give some of those seemingly inconsequential moments their due, hold them, and cherish them. And then, feel the present moment you are currently in, because this very moment will one day too, bring you to where you will stand.