Tag: Introspection

When Nostalgia Visits

James Cain

I started out in search of ordinary things
How much of a tree bends in the wind
I started telling the story without knowing the end
I used to be darker, then I got lighter, then I got dark again
Something too big to be seen was passing over and over me
Well, it seemed like a routine case at first
With the death of the shadow came a lightness of verse
But the darkest of nights, in truth, still dazzles
And I work myself until I’m frazzled
I ended up in search of ordinary things
Like how can a wave possibly be?
I started running, and the concrete turned to sand
I started running, and things didn’t pan out as planned
In case things go poorly and I not return
Remember the good things I’ve done
In case things go poorly and I not return
Remember the good things I’ve done
Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh
Done me in
copyright Bill Callahan from the album, Sometimes I Wish We were an Eagle.

I’m told that feelings of nostalgia can be dangerous, dangerous in the sense that you can lose yourself enough to miss out on being in the moment. Possibly true, but in an attempt to put balance into my thinking here, I’d like to think that whatever and whenever nostalgia or recollections unapologetically come to mind—whether good, bad or ugly—I can use them to better appreciate what being in the moment means.

The lyrics to Bill Callahan‘s song, Jim Cain, never fails to stir something in me. Jim Cain was an American novelist, an author often referred to as the archetype of “hard-boiled novels.” Three of Cain’s novels found its way to the screen, each receiving critical acclaim: Double Indemnity, Mildred Pierce and The Postman Always Rings Twice.

The eponymous song is haunting yet contains elements or conditions which feel relevant. I make no claim to be an expert on Mr. Cain’s life or his work, and yet every time I listen to this specific song, sensations of deja vu slip in. Mr. Callahan’s style, his sound is wholly unique [IMHO], and indeed that character of voice and music composition reinforces key feelings in my ephemeral journey of 4 minutes, 39 seconds .

Several verses strike a chord [pun intended], however three lines ping my empathetic sensors:

I started running, and things didn’t pan out as planned
In case things go poorly and I not return
Remember the good things I’ve done

The photos in this gallery reach back 4 decades to a time that will always mean much to my personal and professional journeys. I’m convinced that most of us are running—some more determined than others—hoping to optimize careers, relationships, and of course, one’s sense of self. And yet in spite of shortcomings that can toss us off the saddle, we get up, and with additional effort we manage to return to the point where we stumbled. We carry on as we must.

When I look at these photos in the company of the music and lyrics of the aformentioned song, I recall the people, events and lessons which remain relevant. I’m reminded that many things in life are good and that some of that good is actually a product of my own doing or in collaboration with someone else or those in a group. Why reflect on the banal, the unpleasant, the incorrigible, among other soul-dampening sentiments? Because without them, you achieve little balance to various positives that fate hands you. Indeed there are plenty of those ill-feelings to weigh down our resolve to do better, day in-day out. Think back to an event ,a person, a vicissitude if you will, that later proved to be a turning point which led you to where you are now, or perhaps pushes you to finish a journey still in progress.

There are some years that snap and engage your entirety as a person, because it clarifies statements such as, “yup, been there, done that” to any number of realizations, each based on a chance or intention: “Yeah…that was stupid…and I’m not doing that again!” Over the years, we hear reprimands from parents, teachers and coaches, even our peers, which we in turn offer to our own children. I’d like to think that most reprimands are lessons filled with hope and expectation. We hope our young charges “get the message.”

To open archives of a time long ago produces a reawakening of feeling, dissonant and concordant. It all depends on context. My cohorts line up alongside nostalgia, in ways that yes, brings up yearning but also that understanding of, “I don’t think I would’ve made it this far if it weren’t for _________.” That blank line between “for” and the “.” has possibilities. For me, the ones I’ve chosen were life-changing. The elements of personalities, a moment in time–and especially at a specific point–are sealed. They are irrevocable and part of me.

Clearly on many levels, I am a better person because of such experiences. Throughout life, we move forward and as people and events become things of the past, of things which somehow shaped you, regardless of where you are and with plans you’ve made, you certainly have done good things worth remembering.

The Pen is More Personal…

A few of us have been [hand] writing for as long as we can remember. More specifically, letters, postcards and greeting cards. Conceit aside, I’m one of those anachronisms [I use fountain pens & bottled ink] and I enjoy writing in all its archaic forms.

Because of the pandemic, there’s a renewed interest in writing, whether a letter, in a journal, even on a page or two of plain paper. I find it all encouraging as voiced in this recent article in The Critic. Writing a letter isn’t what it used to be, but a few of us still find satisfaction in such a personal construct of thought and emotion. A part of me is contained therein. Some days, the pen skims across the paper and other times, it’s hard to get out the first sentence or two.

Decades from now, no one will need an app to read its content. Sentimental as it is, perhaps some of my family and friends will keep them in a shoe box of sorts. Each envelope containing a capsule of time and place.

A journal can capture and hold—albeit brief—a particular sentiment, an observation, an epiphany perhaps more. And like letters, there is an enduring permanence to what’s put into and left on the paper. In a recent [April 13, 2021] issue of the Wall Street Journal, staff writer Ellen Byron wrote, “How Journaling Can Help You Live Your Best Life.” The Byron article reads more like a primer on the hows and whys of writing and using a journal.

Journal writing is cathartic and offers a number of ways to express practically anything. I write to an alter-ego, directly to myself and at times even address myself in the third person. When I move myself from the “I” to “he,” the dynamic changes. Writing in the third person creates a buffer of sorts, a moat if you will which separates the person in the moment from the person that offers perspective.

A large part of the catharsis revolves around time slowing to a less frenetic cadence. The efficiency or speed of the digital realm fosters an expectation of click-it-now, get-it-now. Letters and journals are the antithesis of such expectations.

Go ahead. Take a pen and some paper and write something, anything, that comes to mind. What matters is you’ve made a decision to place part of yourself right in front of you.

Beginnings

“Happy New Beginnings!” doesn’t have the same cache as the tried and true, Happy New Year! Yet in many ways the first greeting has some weight behind it. There’s a strong inference to starting over, partially or completely. Everyone has a different take on “starting over.”

The action of a rising and setting sun, is starting over; the former begins a new day, the latter a new night. Starting over can literally be that: it’s an attempt to put in place what’s transpired with a second [or third, fourth, etc.] attempt to make something work.

This business of New Year’s resolutions—depending on whom you ask and why—is often predestined for failure. This is especially true with the “new and improved” ways to diet, to lose weight, to increase your brain power, your stamina and so on. For many it’s deja vu, a familiar redux from the year prior with the same if not similar results and attendant disappointments. Many successes become commercialized, specifically when a product is recognized as “effective.” On the one hand, you have the wannabes, individuals who for one reason or another did not accomplish their goal and likely through no fault of their own. So, the achievers draw the attention and accolades. No surprises there. Their testimonials reinforces product or program efficacy. Quite frankly, it’s marketing.

My notion behind beginnings [aren’t most beginnings new, BTW?] is that sometimes, we make a list that’s unreasonable: too many to pursue. It’s a big enough challenge to succeed with one, so why burden your good intentions with one or two, or even three. More than one is often simply one too many. Think about it.

There is a bigger challenge in starting over, in a willingness to start over with perhaps new or different tactics and strategies. Make goals more realistic. For me, to say I’ll master conversational french in 2021 is a real dream. I must’ve drank way too much wine on December 31st. And while I can read and write a good amount of francais, it’s quite another to hold a meaningful conversation [assuming I have someone I can converse with]. Indeed, make your goals lofty, but ensure beginnings are grounded.

My own journey contains many beginnings across many facets of life. For the most part, much of them are still a work in progress. Ultimately, something’s got to give. Endings contain their own nuances, good or bad, sad or happy. However, beginnings should always contain hope.

Connections

I love Cape Cod. The season doesn’t matter, but late summer is often a great time. There’s less traffic and a more laid back atmosphere. The beaches and wharfs hold less people, though there are those hearty souls who continue their routines swimming parallel to the shore.
I watch the few on the beaches, most in their chairs, some sitting or lying across a large towel. Others are involved in conversation or quietly engrossed with a book in hand.
You can always count on walkers tracing their steps first one way, then on their return trip to a starting point. The most jubilant are often a dog and its owner. They’ve waited for the moment when the beach was available to them and their joy is clearly displayed. This is the kind of connection that’s about as simple and straightforward as it can get: get out and spend time with good friends, family, your dog—even yourself.

The men enjoying their cocktails aboard a boat speaks of many types of connections: family, work colleague, college room mate, best friend, and so forth. Between the “remember when….did you hear….whatever happened to…” are those moments of hilarity, some brought on by something long past, others in more recent times. Nostalgia connects with the present.

I love the Cape, especially for the many connections its made for me.

Greetings

Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man’s ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remembered not.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly…

William Shakespeare

https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=12&v=3is-UbB-QYo&feature=emb_logo