Nostalgia is not the same as memories. It’s not family stories, or a past trip to Europe or an old love affair. Nostalgia for me is a brief intense feeling brought on by an object, a phrase or melody, an angle of light, a sight or fragrance. It's a moment out of time and place.
For example, when I hear the dry bamboo leaves rustle near our carport I think of the sugar cane fields in winter on a Caribbean island I visited years ago. But it’s not the thought itself that’s nostalgic; it’s the flash of feeling.
I think the reason nostalgia is sometimes treated lightly is because it’s so personal that it’s not easily shared with anyone who hasn’t experienced what you have. I’ve met one or two people who also heard the sugar cane, and all we had to say was, “That sound.”
That might have led to a wonderful conversation about a trip to the Caribbean or family stories (though maybe not an old love affair!). In these stressful times remembering pleasant things together is a comfort. It’s healing to let your mind and body relax. I saw an article today about this.
For the moment, nostalgia is serving a purpose: It provides a retreat, a respite, a way to feel less alone. The word, roughly translated from the Greek, means “a longing to return home.” It makes sense that some of us would seek and find comfort now in pop culture that feels homelike, that’s reliably soothing and predictable, in a world where so much is not.
In the pleasant “flash of feeling” there’s an ounce of sadness for something lost. But to recover the pleasure don’t look for the thing; look for the quality. Write it down, paint it, think about how you can experience this feeling in your world today.
For me with the sugar cane, it was a feeling of being completely open to a new experience. As soon as the plane landed I adapted quickly and without complaint.
I hardly noticed the cave-like bedroom, the strange food, my own foreignness, even the scorpion on the floor of my borrowed car. How could I not give all my attention to the faint music rising on warm night air, fading in and out from the distant bay?
I think nostalgia can remind you to stop and take pleasure in what’s around you and in those people who are sharing parts of your daily experience.
When something makes you feel nostalgic, what is the quality you’d like to have again? It might be right in front of you right now.
Fireflies on a warm breezy summer night while sitting on the front porch swing, barefoot and drinking grandma's fresh lemonade