Theories on Nostolgia

So busy was I this past semester that I found myself feeling distant and disconnected from any memories more than a year old--my mission was a millennium ago; Puerto Rico, Nauvoo, China, Rexburg, Mexico, all seemed far and away; I still treasured these memories but somehow felt alienated from them. I felt a little consternation about it, that is, I did when I had the luxury of introspection.

But now that I've graduated, I find all these memories strangely relevant again--suddenly I'm repeating lively conversations with my mission companions, I'm remembering the warmth of the Atlantic during a baptism; certain songs remind me of girls I dated in Rexburg, of roofing in Island Park, of dancing through the JSA; and suddenly I'm hiking Huang Shan and Tianzhu Shan again, I'm teaching Country Roads to Chinese school children, I'm exploring down town Guadalajara, wandering the beaches of Sayulita, I'm following Kyle on his Harley in Denver.

In the space of one week, I've gone from incapable of nostalgia to shrouded in nostalgia, and I've been trying to locate why.

Theory 1: Introspection is re-available. Like I said, I was really busy this semester, and introspection was a luxury. I didn't have time to remember, and now my brain is making up for loss time.

Theory 2: I was doing exactly what I wanted to do, I was progressing in the direction I desired; now that I'm again in the awkward limbo of moving neither forward nor backward, I of necessity must look back into the past for strength and consolation. Nostalgia, then, becomes a survival mechanism until I re-situate myself, until I can move forward again in the direction of my desires.

Theory 3: Simple transition. I have experienced similar deep recurrences of nostalgia at moments of key transition; in other words, the nostalgia isn't simply until I re-situate, nostalgia is the re-situation. My MA must now navigate itself within the Parthenon of memories and experiences by which my identity is informed and constructed. While still incomplete my MA could not inform my future; now that it joins my past, it unites my past once more to construct my future.

Maybe a combination of all three; maybe none of the above. In any case, I at least have the assurance that if I ever find myself disconnected from my own memories once more, I need only rest assured that they are not dead, not lost, but simply waiting for me; not in the past mind you, but in the future, in eternity.