Posts Tagged thought
Whenever I think about the passage of time, I think in song lyrics — specifically this one: “The past is gone but something might be found to take its place.” (Thank you, Gin Blossoms)
Once I noticed that line hidden in obvious earshot in the chorus of the popular “Hey Jealousy,” I was drawn to it immediately. It’s true for everyone. The past is always gone. We can remember it all we want, but we’ll never get it back. The past is always gone. The lyric is true no matter who we are, but its emotional value depends on where we’re at in life — if we’re looking forward to exciting things to come or lamenting bygone times that brought us great happiness.
In each of our lives, there’s an element of both of these sentiments. In our twenties, many of us have exciting moments on the horizon of strengthening relationships, building commitments, succeeding in the career world in ways we find meaningful, adventuring and being ourselves. Yet many of us have moments when we look back and there’s no other way to say it: we plain miss college — miss our roommates and the closeness we shared, miss the $2 latte day at the best campus coffee shop, miss the atmosphere where friends and fun were two of the top priorities, maybe even miss a couple of our professors whose expertise guided us and an academic environment that taught us, if nothing else, how to learn about ourselves.
The further we progress toward 30 and beyond, the more marvelous moments our minds might stock up to recall with fondness. Maybe that’s why the lyric about the past didn’t strike me right away in college. Maybe, with a few more years behind me, I have that much more to miss.
The past is gone and that much is true, but the second half of what’s become my favorite Gin Blossoms line is just as true, too: “Something might be found to take its place.” These words, to me, represent the hope and strength we need to move forward, even when we’re stuck in a moment of sadness for a past part of our life that we can never recreate. These words are a reminder that the best way to deal with the past and overcome nostalgia is to create a wonderful future.
Sitting here in the present of any particular moment, we can never truly know what elements of the future will take the place of the happiness — or the sadness or the struggles — of our past. We can’t always know, but we can find the answers. We can keep moving forward. We can do this. And we don’t really have a choice. Because “the past is gone but something might be found to take its place.”
The song doesn’t assure us that the future will be just as satisfying as the past. It uses the word “might,” which leaves a lot up in the air. But that’s what self-determination and free will are all about. Let’s use them to find our path and to find something new to take the place, not of everything in the past, but of everything we’ve loved. Let’s start now. Happy 2016.
‘Tis the season for a lot of things and Christmas music certainly is one of them. It’s in car commercials, on radio stations, pumping through shopping malls and serenading office parties. It’s unavoidable, and yet, I find myself seeking it out.
It seems every passing year I listen to more and more Christmas music and I do it more and more on purpose. I can’t figure it out. Unless it’s just another one of those things that’s attributable to adulthood and the passing of time. It must be.
Growing every little bit older and more mature makes us want to appreciate things more. It’s like we realize time flies by too quickly, so we need to enjoy it consciously. It’s as if we realize life is fleeting and limited by nature. And that drives us to act differently, to show more gratitude, kindness and understanding, to live with all of our senses, to appreciate everything. Even hearing “Sleigh Ride” a minimum of three times in one day.
Overplayed tunes aside, there’s plenty to appreciate around Christmas. There’s the changing of the seasons, the pumpkin bread at Starbucks, the lights on houses and apartment balconies, the excuses to go see family, the free food at holiday parties, the unexpectedly light traffic, the classics like “It’s a Wonderful Life” constantly on TV, the simple feeling of warmth people seem to exude despite the impending months of cold, the silver bells and jingle bells and gosh darnit the Christmas music.
Maybe unabashedly listening to Christmas music makes me feel like a kid again. It could be that enjoying “Frosty the Snowman” without embarrassment brings out the snow-loving explorer in all of us, even as we grumble about scraping the fluffy stuff from our windshields and fighting traffic as drivers forget how to steer in it. Christmas music is nostalgia incarnate, good times past packaged into a simple song. It’s a time machine, in audio form, so why not cram as much of it as possible into the month leading up to commercial America’s favorite holiday of Christmas.
So as Dec. 25 approaches, I’ll continue to have the Christmas station on and you’ll often find me jamming out to seasonal songs – even if for no other reason than this: it can’t be Santa’s big day until I hear “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas” at least once!
Merry Christmas to all, and to all some festive tunes.
I wish people weren’t so hypocritical. And I wish it most when it comes to our families.
There are times that bring families together. Births, birthdays, religious ceremonies, coming-of-age occasions, graduations, weddings, retirements, deaths. Aside from the obvious downer at the end, it’s hard to choose a favorite. Then there are things that tear families apart: insults, grudges, slights, distance, time, selfishness, laziness. I don’t know which is worst.
But families remain central to our lives, even as we progress through our twenties. Even as more time passes from the days when we lived with all of our immediate family, those relatives are a rock and steadying factor. Even as time progresses and some of us start our own families or come closer to doing so, those who raised us remain central.
Yet we let our families slip down our priorities list all too often, taking for granted that they’ll always be there for us. I’m guilty, that’s for sure. In fact, my family’s dependable presence and unconditional love are things I take comfort in assuming will be there forever, even when I’m not showing the most kindness, caring or consideration, even when I’m being selfish and putting my own thoughts, needs, wants and interests before those of the people who matter to me the most. Even when my selfishness takes so much precedence that I lose sight of the priorities I place on people, loyalty and dependability. Family is still there.
And when is this sad selfishness most apparent but at the time of a loved one’s death. Inevitably, there will be a lot of family time around a death, and this can be good and bad. Good because family can offer comfort that only those who truly understand you can provide. Bad because family time around a stressful and sad occasion can lead to old tensions flaring and new battle lines being drawn.
Also inevitable are the realizations. They’ll be different for each of us. Often they involve time. We’ll realize we should have spent more time with our families — the ones we were born into and the ones we choose. That’s what old people always say on those work/life balance surveys, anyway: they regret working so much and not spending enough time with their families. But why do we have to let this become a regret before we try to do something about it?
Time, I guess. It’s such a limiting factor that we blame it for our inability to balance our lives and put into order the things that are or aren’t important. Time is why we don’t see our families enough, but time isn’t the culprit. We are.
So if we value our families, let’s start showing it. If we love spending time with our families, let’s start doing it. Don’t wait for the next joyous occasion or tragic one. Don’t wait even for the next weekend. Keep the people who matter in your life central to it and do it now. Because you never know when it’ll be too late.
You know what’s full of clichés? The letter X.
X marks the spot. Solve for X. Find the X factor. Xylophone, because nothing else starts with the darn letter. eXtreme, because, you know, that sounds like it starts with this end-of-the-alphabet annoyance. X-rated. X-files. Ex-girlfriend. X it out and start over.
If only we could start our twenty-something lives over and X out clichés, these overused ways of acting, speaking or thinking that make us stereotypical, predictable, tired, bland – further from our true selves every time we fall into one of them.
If we could have avoided clichés, maybe there would be no negative images of lazy, entitled Millennials, tapping away on our iPhones in Starbucks while planning a three-month trip to Europe instead of getting a job.
If the world around us could be free of clichés, maybe so many of us who struggle with any aspect of ourselves – be it our body image, our sexual identity, our faith, our career aspirations, our family background, our mental stability – wouldn’t have to feel so wrong, unsure or lost. If only, if only.
There’s no way to avoid clichés entirely, and some say there’s a reason they become so commonplace and overused: because they naturally apply to a lot of us. Fair enough.
So let’s not aim for perfection, here, because that, in itself, could be seen as cliché. Let’s just recommit to being ourselves, original and as unique as can be. It’s not up to me to offer any advice on how to do that.