Second Star to the Right and Straight on ’til Morning

It occurred to me recently that it seems like there are a lot of 30th birthday parties going on. Now, mind you, I have recently crossed into this new decade myself, so in that sense it wasn’t really a surprise, but it was curious to me how many parties and special events and even long weekends were being planned to mark and celebrate the occasion. Thinking more on it, I realized that it’s a fair assumption to say that the majority of my close acquaintances are close to me in age. In fact, their ages are probably distributed in a bell-curve around my age. This would mean every 8-10 years or so I should expect this in-rush of decade-celebrating extravaganzas.

In addition to this birthday party phenomenon, there also seem to be other life events that have a bit of a cycle to them. At this point, it seems that my wedding-going years are waning, slowly crawling down from a peak of 6 or so per annum to only 1 or 2; possibly, I will soon see that baby shower occurrences are on the rise. Perhaps in another decade or two I will even start to see an uptick of second weddings (though hopefully not). And, on an even darker thought, at some point funerals will eventually become more frequent. But the changing of the scenery at the events I frequent isn’t really as significant as the passing of time that they mark.

As the high school and college anniversaries mount and the numbers on the invitations continue to grow, I have a longer set of memories to look back upon and reflect. Additionally, with the balance of time behind me and time in front of me continuing to change, my perspective on memories changes with it. Things that felt very close no longer feel so. Places I used to consider a part of my own fabric feel more remote. People I considered close I now take longer to remember where they are or what they’re doing. Childhood homes are sold, boxes and toys must be sorted, donated, sold, or stored. And with that ever-expanding set of memories, I have a greater set of thoughts to revisit and enjoy, but those visits come with a sad air of nostalgia.

It’s obvious that I am not alone in this (again, see the bell-curve theory of friends) and I certainly wouldn’t presume to think that what I write here compares even remotely to the much more profound work on the topic. But I keep finding myself in conversations with friends about remembering the past and lamenting or rejoicing or just feeling nostalgic and am realizing that it keeps coming up organically because it’s something many of us are working through.

What I find interesting is where the conversation closes every time. Inevitably, after re-hashing the “glory days”, then feeling sad that they’re past, and then wishing they could be re-lived, we try to imagine what it would be like. And it’s a silly picture, imagining what it would be like to re-create events from our past that we remember fondly. Think of the movie Old School: on the one hand, it would kind of be awesome and incredibly comedic, but on the other it’s a bit silly. And either way, it still wouldn’t be the same. The conclusion of the thought experiment which we arrive at is that whatever it is we miss and want is the zeitgeist of the place and time itself, and it could not be recreated even if we wish.

As the philosopher Heraclitus put it, “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.” Also, I believe Pocahontas was quoted similarly, “What I love most about rivers is, You can’t step in the same river twice, The water’s always changing, always flowing…”

You could take these wise words as a marker of time being one-directional and circle back to being sad about the things that are gone, or you can realize that since alternatives to allowing time to just keep moving forward are rather impractical, our focus should be on enjoying the memories we are making or anticipating. While it’s a bit cliché to say we must cherish the past and our memories for what they are and strive to live in the present and future, it is still important; more important still is the thought process it takes to get to that conclusion.

Ignoring the topic entirely not only limits your ability to achieve happiness, but also your ability to move forward at all. You have to realize that it is not actually the boxes of sentimental stuff we’re holding onto that we desire, but the memories we attach to them and the yearning to return to that time. And when you realize that you can’t and even if you could it still wouldn’t be the same and as a result, it changes your perspective on the emphasis you place on objects as the physical embodiment of memories. Contentment with the passing of time is a mark of maturity that we all hope to achieve and the only way to clean all that crap out of your damn attic.

Comments are closed.