Nostos Algos

This past weekend was a lot. You know those weekends, when your body fills up with this strange empty fullness? A strange duality that makes your heart hurt but your smile show. And with every reminder and memory and photograph it expands like a hot air balloon, finding its way up to your tear ducts, where the pent up feelings are rung out like a heavy washcloth. It's not an inherently bad sensation, per se, but it does hurt. Like hot wax on skin, the initial feeling burns but the sensation is therapeutic.

Nostalgia. Looking Back - Today's topic.

So this past Labor Day weekend, like I mentioned, was a lot. Not nearly "nostalgia at it's worst" for me, but it certainly seemed like the universe was conspiring to figure out just how many memories they could heap on me, until I was reduced to a blob on the couch wrapped in a dozen blankets and pint after pint of Ben & Jerry's while looking at old photos through hot ugly tears. Lemme tell you - it nearly succeeded.

As was the topic of my last post, the nostalgia began with my family's annual mountain trip to Shenandoah National Park, a trip that I normally would be on but am a literal thousand miles from. My mother and brothers and aunt all sent me messages of love and accompanying photos of their weekend of relaxation and mountain air. That was tough. But "NO," the universe shouted sadistically, "LET'S PACK IN SOME MORE". That Saturday night and Sunday morning posts, photos, and videos of the newest members of the W&M Cleftomaniacs (my a cappella group from college - most attractive group on campus since 1693). Sure enough, along with the joyous news of Clefto Babies was a torrent of posts from my fellow Clefto Alumni, congratulating the latest generation on their induction into the family. And then we all proceeded to post on each others' walls about how much we miss each other, and how many old videos from performances in years past we'd watched after getting sucked into CleftoNostalgia (#WhenWeWereYoung #Adele . And yes, since you're probably wondering, there is a "Clefto" version of everything. CleftoCheese. ClefTour. CleftoWaWaRun. Anything and everything). Which THEN led to a tour through any and all college memories like the one pictured above (this was, by far and away, the best costume choice ever made for SinfoniWeen - a glorious evening when everyone involved in Sinfonicron Light Opera Company dresses up with their housemates and eats ice cream. Clue: The Movie. Impossible to out-do. Perfection). 

Two Strikes. Family FOMO and CleftoFamily/College memories. Strike Three? Well, strike three came in the form of that hard to watch feature on Facebook where they show you just how ridiculous you were"On This Day" 4, 5, 6+ years ago, when you were posting things like "off to buy more cargo shorts and get my Bieber haircut. Such fun!" However, on this occasion, the cringe-worthy material was replaced with someone ELSE's cringe worthy memories, which made for my amusement. Namely a goofy old video of some friends of mine from my home church back in Richmond, VA made eons ago when the world was young and MySpace roamed free. Which led me to a dozen or so photo albums I had posted from years and years back (we're talking HIGH SCHOOL Grayson. **shudders**) buried deep in my Facebook account that were filled with memories from my string orchestra, my first summer trip to Montreat with the Tuckahoe Presbyterian Church Youth Group, my journey through the Grand Canyon back in early high school with my Boy Scout troop, etc...

THREE STRIKES! (**Universe watches in eager anticipation, pint of Ben & Jerry's at the ready**). But was I out for the weekend? Was my Labor Day Monday filled with lethargy and long sighs?

Yes. And no. Yes I allowed these memories to fill me with both happiness and some sadness, and a fair amount of longing. But No, I did not let them take hold. Allow me to explain.

The Greek word for 'return' is 'nostos', and 'algos' means 'suffering'. "Nostalgia" is going to be inherently painful, you're going to have that "twisted wet washcloth" feeling, because of the very nature of what you're doing. I've learned the hard way that 'nostalgia', a practice that can have damaging effects, is an act separate from 'remembrance'. They are very closely connected, but one is a yearning to return while the other is an appreciation for what has been. I'll admit, listening on my iPhone to the music my family gets to hear up in the mountains, seeing a new generation of Cleftos get plucked from the crowd, and sailing down the river of #MyPast put me near the Sarlac Pit of Nostalgia. But I had to remind myself that these memories - the ones that stuck out like bursts of bright color in what was an otherwise monotone journey through adolescence and young adulthood - are cherished because they (and the people in them) helped form me into the man I am today. To look back and want to return to those memories - the ease and comfort of the past - and abandon my present situation would be a disservice to myself, and a betrayal to the past versions of myself who struggled to get through the B&W in order for me to be right where I am: in a life FULL of color, not just bursts of it.

Proust put it best: "Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were." We tend to forget all the negative aspects of times past. Which is a good thing - I mean, who would WANT to be haunted? But by engulfing ourselves in the idea that a time before this is inherently better than the present means we've forgetten to appreciate all the benefits of the present day, and the great strides we made then to get to where we are now. And that's speaking individually, communally, and nationally (lookin' at you MAGAheads). Holding onto the past too tight keeps us from moving forward into our future. Time is linear; there is no way to transform "what has been" into "what will be". It will never be the same.

So here's what we have to do: remember the good times. Go ahead and push back those B&W bits and enjoy the ride as you remind yourself of those bursts of color. The family trips you took, the songs you sang, the goofiness and naivety. All those bursts served a purpose in your life - they lifted your spirits, made you stronger, gave you love. So give them a little love back and wrap it in a warm hug. Just remember to let the hug end so that you can accept the next hug.

I'm writing in circles again, aren't I? OK, BRASS TACKS: True change is daunting - that's undeniable. The present is a hectic, crazy time, and the future is scary. Sometimes to cope with that fear we hold onto the past and think of all the pretty times as we stare into the unwritten and unknown, asking "what if something terrible happens?" But all it takes is to listen to that blank slate and hear its response:

"What if something wonderful happens?"