How nostalgia’s old road can lead to new places

I’m a Gen Xer, and boy, are we a nostalgic bunch. My feeds are full of memes and sappy remembrances of a time when things were “simpler,” bolder and brighter. My cohort has the distinction of experiencing some adulthood before the Internet added a bajillion working parts to life.

It’s easy to look back on those times as better, and yearn to rediscover the hopes and dreams that re-emerge when you hear your favorite song from 1984.

I’ll be honest, I don’t think drinking from a water hose was better. But it was definitely a thing you could do if you didn’t have time to go in the house and drink from a faucet.

We GenXers are fiercely pragmatic that way. 😁

Nostalgia, though, can be both a comfort and a trap.

It might feel cozy to relive the joy and innocence of the past. But it can also trap you in a cycle of regret, keeping you from growing or adapting to your present moments.

If you’ve ever been to a high school reunion, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

There’s always that crowd that no matter how many years have passed, they are very much living their life as if it’s still senior year. Nothing has changed.

They’re making the same decisions, with the same people, and the same dysfunctions, although now with a much wider footprint.

Seeing that can make you super grateful for making decisions towards what you want, even if things haven’t turned out exactly the way you planned.

It’s validating to know that you moved your limits beyond childhood.

I learned a different lesson when I visited my old teenage home. Initially, I struggled to find the house because they had moved the road when expanding the neighborhood.

Who moves an entire road?

I wandered around for about 15 minutes, wondering if I had imagined living in this neighborhood. Then I saw the house, and it all came flooding back to me.

• All the times I laid out by the pool with no regard for my skin’s future.
• That spot in the yard where my friend and I restored a bicycle we had pulled out of the canal behind my house (probably could have asked more questions about that one).
• Parking my very first Mustang in the driveway (the first of several) behind my mom’s car.

Staring at the house I could see all of that so clearly in my mind, and remember what it felt like to be a totally awesome teenager with my whole life in front of me.

But it was clear the neighborhood had moved on without me. A developer from who knows where had given it new purpose, and new people were navigating new roads with their own experiences.

Getting stuck in either situation, whether it’s clinging to the past or refusing to acknowledge its impact, would have changed the direction of my life.

It’s nice to remember a simpler time, but it’s also valuable to see how those experiences shaped me for the journey I’m on right now.

If nostalgia serves a purpose, I think it’s to ground us with our authentic selves.

It’s bringing you back to what you know to is true about you and has been true since forever.

You connected with those things once, and they gave you a vision and dream for your life that felt real.

Nostalgia gives you an opportunity to reconnect with that, with all of the sensory experiences that make it feel so real. Then, you can step into the present — and ultimately the future — and create a life you could not imagine back then.

Maybe today is a good day to do a little life skills inventory.

Brainstorm all the skills and strengths you developed during those “simpler times.” Allow yourself to take in all the sights, sounds, smells, tastes and textures.

How can you apply these skills to today’s challenges in some fresh ways?