Tag Archives: butterflies

Setting a Junior High Bar

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“Nostalgia is a powerful drug. Under its influence, ordinary songs take on dimensions and powers, like emotional superheroes.”  —Kate Christensen

“Nostalgia is a file that removes the rough edges from the good old days.” —Doug Larson

“I don’t like nostalgia unless it’s mine.” —Lou Reed

Before the loss of innocence. When everything mattered, and the world was new and full of exciting prospects. Before the feuding and frustration. Before jaded took the place of buoyant optimism. Before the fall…there was a constant, tireless climb.

This ethereal energy resides in a space without adequate words for accurate descriptions. It lives in the music we run on a loop, the smells and sounds of youth and freedom, and the flashback bang of sudden reminiscence. Sensations wake hibernating butterflies like an instant time machine transportation to moments when our brains were buzzing with bottomless questions and our eyes were painting vivid, multicolored landscapes onto the blank canvases of our consciousness.

To peak at 13 is nothing to brag about, but it’s hard to deny the reality that those “possibility days” were filled with so much more substance, wonder, and potential than the current “every days.” This regular inclination to return to what feels familiar and safe is proof of the power of those vital, formative years. There is an undeniable pull to revisit the psychological head spaces that were inviting and secure, especially since the modern world has become an unpredictable, toxic, and addicted cesspool of anger, abuse, greed, and inequality.

So what’s the move? If we’re stuck standing in the here and now, unable to revert to our former selves, the only salve is memory-strolling through the lighter days and appreciating the fact that they existed in the first place.

Maybe they weren’t supposed to last forever, but nostalgia keeps us chasing that carrot and fighting for even a fleeting glimpse of those first feelings.

Mental snapshots are a lot heavier than JPEGs.

Snap away whenever you can.

Adolescence Interrupted

A Panglossian Perspective

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“Your end can be greater than your beginning: butterflies are the greatest proof of this.” —Matshona Dhliwayo

The thaw on the heels of a freeze. A rainbow following a storm. Resets and restarts. There is a beauty and certain merit in the gift of a new beginning.

Cleaning slates can achieve more than neat stockpiles of dust generated by rote eraser smashing. For all the effort involved in the grind, the result is a smooth, sharp edge. As our eyes start to squint from the glare of an unfamiliar sun, there’s a chance to see what’s changed while we were away.

With a significant (albeit temporary) reduction in carbon emissions, the planet was able to take a deep collective breath, without choking on the exhaust from a billion daily tailpipes slingshotting between home and work. The solution? Home=work…and it’s not that tough.

A nonsense-free workspace shone a spotlight on the delays and distractions inherent in an office setting. It’s impressive what people can accomplish when left alone to focus on a task. Increased opportunities for mindfulness, meditation, and achieving a better work-life balance replaced idling on a gridlocked freeway, wondering what happened to an already-tenuous grip on sanity.

But the most obvious gift we’ve been granted in this past pandemic year is the smack in the teeth of perspective. What matters and what doesn’t? The global population was left to ponder which relationships were worth preserving, which hobbies and activities warranted the necessary time commitment, and how to best live life on a loop.

Introverts soared, propelled by lighter wings and limitless air, while extroverts crashed under the burden of unattainable energy reserves, held just out of reach by isolated friends behind social prison bars.

Those who craved connection were glued to substandard Zoom chats and a perpetual battle against the glitch. The best-laid intentions for daily commiseration sessions soon became weekly, monthly, and then nonexistent.

But using the sting and pain of the present as brick and mortar for better days, we can stack the necessary blocks to avoid building a road to repetition. Lessons are only valuable when learned, and this is a prime opportunity to put into practice some real, tangible change.

The list of what’s on that docket is a volume too extensive to tackle in this condensed format, but the opportunity for metamorphosis has presented itself, here and now.

Static caterpillar or unbound butterfly? Choose wisely.

Adolescence Interrupted