I could be wrong, but it seems like a natural current for my age group. You start to look back. I’m not talking about dwelling or obsessing or recapturing or idealizing or mourning—just reflecting. Even if you are not an adherent, your dreams probably are. At least, mine are. Dylan said, “Anybody who lived through the ‘60’s probably doesn’t remember them anyway.” I feel that way about my whole life.
Honestly, everything is hazy. Is that just me? I like to think that so much has happened that I just can’t remember it all, but I suspect the truth is that I just wasn’t paying attention. I spent so much time looking inward that the outward tended to blur. Love goes outward. I’ve never been that good at love, but I hope I’m getting better.
In most of my reminisces, I tend to remember the bad more than the good. I have more unhappy dreams than happy ones too. What would Freud say? I’d say that I’m damaged goods, just like we all are. Dylan (a mentor of mine) said, “If my thought-dreams could be seen, they’d probably put my head in a guillotine.” We can’t go around pretending we have perfect minds.
Most of us have come up with a crutch to deal with this inner turmoil. We don’t think about our past, and we don’t think about our dreams. Or if we do and it’s uncomfortable, we blame someone else or fate or God. Ah, but that doesn’t make it go away. I think of those unpleasant memories and unsettling dreams like the giant worms in Tremors. You don’t see them, but they’re underneath there doing damage—and they’re coming after you!
My contention is that past-diving can and should be a healthy activity, especially for us older folk. (Why us? Perspective, more than anything.) Exploring your past has to lead to self-knowledge. I don’t want to get spiritual on you, but self-knowledge has to lead to humility. Humility leads to God. You may not realize it, but God has been involved in every one of these past events, the good and the bad, impossible to understand but true.
People used to participate in your life, then exit. Your first best friend, your first crush, your first enemy, your first real hero, your first love—then they would disappear and your life would evolve. Then came social media—your past is no longer behind you, it’s walking right alongside. Of course, the danger is letting the past entice you out of the present. Is this a Pandora’s box you’ve opened? Is it, more than anything, a portal to temptation? Is every reach a buried desire?
No, of course not. It’s what you make it. Along with maintaining contact with people you wish you could spend more time with, social media gives you an opportunity to stay in contact with people you probably wouldn’t otherwise, along with people maybe you shouldn’t. It has an upside and a downside—which side are you feeding?
If social media is a connection to your past, music is an even stronger one. How many specific songs do you connect with specific events in your past? Tons, I bet. “Soldier Boy” has me slow-dancing with a girl in a junior high school gym, “Bad Moon Rising” has me tripping on the streets of Virginia Beach, and “I Want You” has me relishing the beauty of my wife. More than triggers—touchstones.
There is another aspect of sorting out your past that I haven’t touched upon—exploring it with the people you shared it with. Joy and conflict—the highs and lows. Honest interactions. But that’s a topic for another essay.
So I’m making a case for opening yourself up to your past. Remembering. Consciously, on purpose. What is the value of such an endeavor? Mostly repentance. Did I mention humility earlier? If you can look back on your past without some regret, you are probably a liar. But if you can see that regret as a positive thing, an I‑won’t‑do-that-again reminder, that is called growth. Next after repentance would be gratitude (…all that and I’m still going? Thank You!) Finally, motivation. In light of my past, I vow to be a better person. Ernest Hemingway said: “There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.” Amen.
Very well said!
Well said, Dallin! P.S. Love the pic!
If you weren’t my daughter-in-law, i would love you anyway. I kinda think you get me.
This is a favorite so far. I know I shouldn’t have favs but let’s just say it’s in the top five of your postings I’ve read thus far. I’m not one to rank but I know you kinda are, at least when it comes to top musical albums or favorite books, so i feel obliged to say I really like this one. I understand and applaud what you’re exploring here and that has a lot of value to me. Thanks Dallin for this thoughtful read. I appreciate the way you craft your ponderings. You do so in a way that engages and addresses us, the reader. Keep up the writing, it’s great! Thanks for sharing.