I tend to define nostalgia as a bittersweet reminiscence as we continue to live in the now and move ahead towards the future. Sometimes, there’s mixed emotions when thinking about the past, and some people avoid the subject matter and the whole “nostalgia song and dance” entirely. I also can recognize that there is a bit of a line to toe — a line of reminiscence versus living in the past and feeling perpetually stuck.
Those who know me know that I’m quite the “nostalgic” individual. Nostalgia may as well be my middle name. I’m the person who likes to conjure up memories of days gone by. Remember the fall of my senior year? Remember that trip to the west village? The Catskill Mountains every winter? And so on and so forth. I even compiled reflections into a book I wrote called the The Art of Nostalgia, a collection of nine personal essays that take the reader down a timeline of memories in the hopes that these personal accounts can relay universal truths. (This collection is on Amazon if anyone is interested — okay, that was not as smooth and subtle as I hoped my plug-in would be.)
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