Nostalgia –
Now there’s a great find. This is the thing inside of us which stirs when something comes along and hits the memory button.
Nostalgia, like, as in ah – that thing which took place all those years ago.
Remember?
Back when we were young . . .
I love this sort of thing –
Or what about back when youth was still on our side. I know this was a long time ago, right?
The plethora of tomorrows and thoughts about the future were merely irrelevant.
Nothing else mattered. The future is for old people.
There were no huge or heavy levels of responsibility. School was school and work was just work and Friday – well, Friday night was the ultimate goal. We did whatever we could just to get to the weekend.
How about before then? How about the freedom of summer when every day was the weekend?
No school. No reason to be anywhere in particular except, of course, to be wherever the action was.
Like me, I was at the park over on Prospect. I can say that was my part of town. That’s where my group of friends hung out. And God, I swear, we basically lived there.
We were the longhaired kids in the town. We were the crazy kids, the troubled ones, and yes, I can say that most of us were the defiant ones too. Some of us were more deviant than others and some of us paid the price for it. Some got away with their antics and others, not so much
I can say this without any doubts or questions that no matter where we go or how we age; you never forget the kids from the neighborhood.
I can say this now and I will say this again because it’s true – and I’ve been saying this for years now.
I’ve been telling everyone this in journals from my past. In fact, I have even seen proof when old familiar faces gather together for some kind of reunion thing .And there you are, laughing about things that you almost forgot happened.
I love these moments.
I love seeing the people from my past who evolved and as we look back, we shake our heads because A) we survived and B) somehow we became adults and got jobs or have a mortgage or that C) there’s the fact that some of us even chose to have kids, which is truly amazing to me.
I was asked how I would react as a parent if I learned that my kids did what I did when I was a teen – and the answer is I’d freak out!
Of course, I would.
I’d have a heart attack.
What parent wouldn’t?
I also understand that as someone who has interacted with youth in some regard as a specialist and speaker that yes, life is still happening. And no, parents only have so much control over what their kids will do or see. Life happens and social pressures are very real.
We all have a path to find or follow.
This is true.
The understanding of choices come to mind and if anything, I suppose my answer to the question is I’d try to strengthen my child’s worth and help them see and understand that their value is far greater than the subjects of popularity or status.
I could tell a kid that popularity isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be or that it’s not so important – but it is . . .
We all need to be wanted and included and invited.
This is a natural need.
It’s a trick though – to find your worth and understand your value.
I get that.
I say this as a grown man but also, I say this as a grown kid who lived through painful insecurities, anxiety and depression. But to be clear, that’s not what this is about –
Not at all.
Putting the values of right and wrong to the side and getting back to the capricious journey which I called my crazy youth, and surpassing the consequences and the lessons of hindsight, I can say that there were some wild nights and some crazy stories.
I can say that yes, there was a culture to my crazy town, which is perhaps subjective to me, – or I can say that there is a certain understanding that takes place when we talk to the old friends from the neighborhood.
Not everything that happened was good. Not everything that happened was bad either. However, as per the saying, “Someday, we’re gonna look back at this and laugh,” can be true.
There are things which took place and yes, there were broken bones and stitches and times in emergency rooms. There were fist fights and parties that led to houses being wrecked or holes punched in walls because of a fight that broke out.
There were bouts of drunkenness that led to unfortunate and irreversible outcomes.
There were times of trouble and crisis.
But, too –
There were nights when all was right, the lights were perfect, the music was on and we were crazy enough to dare the sunrise and still have time for more.
I’m not sure what I thought I would be or who I thought I’d become.
Then again, there was a time when the future was only something old people talked about, right?
As mentioned; I never paid attention to the plethora of tomorrows because I was young.
So?
Why would I have to worry about the future if the future was so far away?
Why would I think about the consequences of my actions?
That’s the trouble with youth – I always thought I’d get another shot.
Until I didn’t get it. And that’s when the topics of loss came into the picture.
There was a time when my metabolism was quick. I could eat anything.
I could stay up and be out all night and still make it to work the next day.
There was a time where the intensity of my life was focused on other ideas.
My intentions were different yet my search has never changed.
Not at all. Not once.
My attention to my search is much different now.
My willingness to think about my fears and move beyond my limitations has improved to a stronger level. As I move forward in this new chapter of my life, I understand why I am where I am – then again, this is the matter of hindsight which takes place after-the-fact and, of course, the lights are bright when it comes to this one. Of course we see clearly after all is revealed.
Right?
I think back though.
I think of the times when I swore, nothing was that serious or meaningful and that even love was pretty much a huge misconception – and dare I admit to this, which I will, I was unsure if love was real.
I was unsure of so many things. In fairness, my mixed up beliefs stirred my mixed intentions and although I was yearning for something “more” as if to say that I wanted to feel more, that I wanted to see more and yearn more, or desire more, which means nothing would ever be average or commonplace or status quo – I wanted everything to be alive and new.
I wanted to be regarded and wanted. I wanted to be beautiful.
In fact, I still do.
I wanted my life to be jazzed and wired like a bright light beaming, outrageous in color, and screaming aloud, as if to defy the bullshit terms of life “as it were.”
More than anything, I wanted to find my place in the circle. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to smell the ocean. I wanted to enjoy the city lights, like we did when we’d head over the bridge and there She was, New York City.
I never told anyone about my dreams to write. I never told anybody about my fascination for poetry either. No one knew about this
But –
I do recall walking into a lounge one night. I was with a group of friends, loud as ever, and we were shushed as soon as we walked through the door – and there it was – a dream of mine.
Live, and onstage, a light beamed down on a man in front of a mic.
Someone was doing a reading.
I always wanted to do that – but I never dared.
I never do readings.
It’s not my thing. Plus, I have a phobia of reading out loud. Then again, I have a phobia of public speaking to the point where I’ve had to run to the bathroom and vomit – yet, the show went on.
So who knows? Maybe someday . . .
I am at the crux of a new moment. I am on the verge of a new and undefined life yet I am sifting through memories, both happy and sad. Looking back, I can see the times when I wished I turned right instead left.
This is life though. This is hindsight. This is the matter of our irreversible clock.
This is my truth, which I factor into the equation which leads me to the math of where I am now.
Here –
I cannot say that I expected to be where I am, which is not to say that where I am is bad or good or anything in-between. Instead, I know that we are the sum of our own personal mathematics.
I am always going to be the square root to my own equation.
(Always!)
I know that we add and subtract and that eventually, we come to the sum that acts as an answer.
I believe this.
I believe in the course of life and that life is always the almighty teacher.
In which case, if you do something wrong, teacher makes you do it again –
Up to the blackboard, kid. You have some equations to answer in front of the class
and teacher keeps you up there until you get it right.
So, life is filled with lessons.
I see that.
I have a few scars that taught me lessons from my past.
I have new ones as well.
And that’s okay. Someday, we are going to look back at this mess – and we’re gonna laugh and shake our heads, at least I hope so.
As for now, I have to dress the part and play the game because no, my plethora of tomorrows have dwindled down and hindsight has shown me that it makes sense to pay attention.
Nostalgia –
This is the thing that warms our hearts and reminds us of ideas, like a summertime moment when all else was irrelevant. And we were alive enough to still be wild. We were crazy enough to be youthfully reckless and crazy enough to dare the limits of the world – just to see what happens next.
To hell with you, age.
To hell with you, metabolism.
To hell with your slow-to-heal moments.
To hell with the creakiness of my bones, which I can say have improved
(after the weight loss).
To hell with the boundaries between youth and adulthood –
To hell with you too, Mr. Mortgage Company
And you too, Mr. Insurance
Mr. Credit Cards can suck it as well . . .
You to, Mr. Bill-Pay
It’d be nice to lose the stress for a while – or play hooky.
We could run around in Central Park, if you’d like –
Or what about that garden in Harlem.
Remember? (Because I do . . .)
We can go if you like
Just for old time’s sake.
The Written Addiction 