Pinched about the Past

Lately I’ve been nursing the sting of nostalgia. My mind wanders back to a classroom that doesn’t exist anymore, one with crayons and glue, shapes and colors. I wish to belly up against a glossy desk with curiosity for the day; to have no say in what I eat or where I go, to just be along for the ride. I want my imagination back, not the dreams of world peace but of dragons, ferries, caves. My ignorance bliss is forever gone as long as there are screens around. Going far away was easy because it was only to the end of the street, just out of view for a second. I miss the weightlessness of the past because in the present even the problems that aren’t mine still feel like mine. I wish to believe in everything again, how easy it was. The condition of being a grown up- that everything feels like waiting, but not for anything good. And because these are all acute injuries to the spirit, I’ve chosen to do nothing but embrace what is true about my life now. What you resist will always persist, and so I’m giving myself a dose of acceptance this week and raising a toast to time and change. It is a comfort to know that Gladys would have been so understanding, in Stillmeadow Calendar she writes… “One morning I go out to pick wild asters and suddenly it is September at Stillmeadow. I think it is the smell of the air, like the wild grapes and windfall apples. I know fall is here, although the world is still green with summer. …I feel an urgency to gather in all the loveliness of the past blazing days and star-cool nights and keep them forever.” If only I would have known about growing up then, I would have gathered up so much to bring along for the life ride. I know now there lives a moment in time that I kicked my green soccer ball into the invisible goal against the neighbor’s fence for the very last time.

If you read my past posts you would know about the pencil season and my habit for picking up pencils around the school grounds on my walks. This is been a slow year, and I grew fearful that perhaps kids gave up pencils all together for digital scribbles. My walk on Thursday proved otherwise because not only did I find 3 pencils, but two of them were colored pencils -one orange and one purple. Secondary colors. It occurred to me that these little hints were there for me on purpose, to remind me that I am on the secondary season of my life. Where I had intended on making a left, seeing the pencils lead me to walking in the direction of a little neighborhood pond, and so I took heed to what the universe was telling me. As I walked and reflected on taking life a little too serious sometimes, I was reminded that in spite of how short our lives are, I still have so much ahead of me.

Decades from now I may feel the same sting of nostalgia, but for my little house on Blackburn Avenue, taking walks around the middle school, making soups and spending time with my little angel poodle. Maybe to treat my current aches I will gather up some loveliness from these days to carry with me forever.

Alongside of my toast to time and change, I also say cheers to the last calendar day of summer. It was 88 degrees here today, we had a very hot and bright weekend, perhaps one of the last hot weekends of the year.

If you find your heart pierced with nostalgia I suggest you take yourself out for ice cream, it might be your last until the warm days return.

Thank you for reading and as always, drop me a line because I DO LOVE to chat!

justicesarah67@yahoo.com