Nostalgia as sign it’s time to reboot our childlike sense of self, and how being states help us cope with a heightened sense of responsibility.
My brother sent me a Gen X TikTok yesterday. It was about how as kids we didn’t necessarily appreciate all the positive feelings of hope we took as given: that the future was bright. So I coined this little term because it explains much of what I also have been going through, and maybe exploring this idea about states of being will also be helpful to you.
Ma + Nostalgia – A longing for a time when we felt like all was – and would be – well. A sense of self that includes a childlike wonder, and an anticipation of adult adventuring to come. This being state also included elders’ watchful, loving presence, which we likely didn’t notice at the time, but we can re-engage for the sake of the collective as we become elders ourselves.
Nostalgic yearning is so common, and my Generation (X) is right here in the thick of it right now. I wonder if it is because we are aging into the role of elders; handling the tasks of care-taking up and down the generations, and supposedly running the cultural, economic, and political mechanisms that run our society?
It’s a bit much, right?
I experience waves of nostalgia at times, then usually pull myself out with adult irony and cynicism or distraction, then get back to work trying to make things better. But none of these: nostalgia, irony, nor even work has been curing what was ailing me.
Yet, I’m beginning to discover what does…
And it is not re-creating the cultural trappings or circumstances of those Gen X times, which were full of trust, grit, unquestioned safety, independence, humor, and freedom (and waaayyy less media). And it is not that I desire again live in a way where others take care of me either.
‘My’ cure is engaging directly in the state of being I had as a child. And that state happens occurs in me when I make things for the sheer joy of it, wonder about the outer reaches universe or time and space, and wield creative tools in new ways.
What is it for you? That thing that helps you feel wonder?
As children, there was nothing that stopped us from envisioning a better world, a kind world, one where we embraced nature and diversity without even knowing these things were ‘a thing.’ Our minds were fresh and our desires fresher. We didn’t even have labels for much of this stuff: we were play incarnate.
We didn’t envision a better world, we were the better world.
We danced, did goofy stuff, sang loud, pushed against rules, and spent loads of time learning and more time playing. We imagined the outer reaches of space, read fairy tales, and talked to frogs in the ponds down the street. We tried to get along with others –– and often succeeded. And each day, if we were lucky, we went home and felt “known.”
As kids, we had intrinsic vision, because in our bones we knew what was right and true. We just didn’t call it “vision,” or write business plans, brand ourselves, set goals, or strategize how we were going to make our thoughts come to pass. Our language and reasoning was just not on par with our experience – and that was a gift. We were innocence and light, not trying to be innocence and light.
The rude awakening when you see what we adults have done (and don’t like it)
I have been struggling with this one for about a year: viscerally feeling the karma and consequences of being a responsible adult. And to be honest, it really kind of sucks. Who would ever sign up for this on purpose?
Oh yes, I didn’t. We just survived until now, which means we’re it.
Couple awakening to this higher level knowing, with the clear memory of the magic and awe of youth, and nostalgia becomes more and more appealing. And I was personally lucky in so many ways. But to be accurate, I also remember the tears, lots and lots of them too: the shock of a mean kid at school, the sadness of a dad far away, a cross teacher, the discovery of war, poverty, the perils and pillaging in history, funky characters in my community, and finding out about the shocking things humans are capable of.
My entire adult life’s story has been comprised of a web of thoughts, theories, and plans how to get along in this place and do right by others here by avoiding the crap. Funny thing is, many of my strategies came about as a reaction to avoid unpleasant emotions, but not all from my wonder and joy. Like how to work remotely (before it was a thing) so I wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by hungry people… it worked to a point, but didn’t necessarily bring joy.
We all cultivate a garden of explanations why terrible things happen, and produce and propagate homegrown sets of “survival + thriving” plans to avoid unpleasant stuff in the future. Many of us turn to religion to explain mysterious phenomena, or cling to mental methods taught by others as a way to keep us safe. They don’t, but they do help us feel like we have someone to talk to. And we always do.
Some of these kinds of plans worked (my life is pretty good), but not all of them.
Gaining language and reason as a child, and developing a sense of unique self are helpful to function in society: everyone has a role to play here. Variety makes life interesting and growth possible. But language and coping skills don’t really protect us from the unexpected. Surprises still come. It’s the nature of things.
Now, as I very consciously age into “elder” status, or more accurately, attempt to preview this status (because that’s what I do – attempt to see a few steps ahead so as to show the way is not so scary), I realize older age awareness is, at best, going backward to a fresher state of mind.
The happiest times I have now are not based on longing for what was, but in the removing the mental constructs fortify myself with against the yucky stuff of life. So, cynicism, no thanks. Mistrust, not helpful. Overwork, definitely not the way. Complaining, a waste of time. Money, not a measure…
And life is pretty beautiful when I toss off my unique crust of mental protection and see with fresh eyes. And I realize, right now, am still as protected and safe as I allow myself to feel. After all, I sprung from nature, and nature generally feels pretty good to me.
My best days now, are walking in the woods like a child: connecting with spirits there and making little bits of art about what I’ve seen. It’s the activity of a 3 year old, but with adult tools and words…
I too, yearn for the earlier times, because I experienced predictable comforts with my mom, my grandparents, my aunt and cousins. They loved me to my bones, and back then I didn’t even know there was an alternative to love. None of these folks were perfect, but they all were “my” family, and my world felt mostly safe and made sense. And my job was to imbibe wonder, make things, learn, build, be, grow…
My ‘Ma’ part: the importance of mothers in feeling deep spiritual safety.
I have to credit my mom for a wide alive kind of childhood. “Ma,” as my brother and I call her, was not overly affectionate. But she was a brilliant student of life who fancied herself a nomad and behaved like a hippie renunciate. She delighted in dream-work at the breakfast table, danced the twist to Paul Simon in our kitchen, and noted our talents while eagerly imbibing our thoughts on philosophy.
Ma made a “well balanced” breakfast every morning and dinner every night. Ma delighted in our ideas and encouraged our dreams. She expected us to behave responsibly and punishments were always in direct alignment with the “crime.” When I snuck out one night to run around with boys in a fast jeep, she grounded me for the next 6 full moons, since that’s when I exhibited poor judgement.
Moon, Ma, Grounded. Seriously, I was pretty darn lucky and still stay in on many full moons…
Ma had a great sense of humor, and loved chocolate in all its lovely forms. She still does. Ma made my world make sense, even if in an unusual mystically practical way. And even now, with her fading memory, she still does.
A cultural view: MAGA as nostalgia
I can’t help wonder if some Trump supporters desire to “go back” is a reaction to having developed eyes to see the reality of this world and natural fears around that. Could the promise of being “great again” make smart folks sign on for an authoritarian, bad-mannered, retribution-type guy who promises fewer human rights, less privacy and freedom? Maybe so. His slogan promises the past in some nebulous way, and to be fair, he’s also tapping an old-school authoritarian playbook.
Maybe folks signed on for this kind of leadership because if anyone wants all that power and responsibility, then let them? If someone else “has it” then maybe we can forget our own responsibility and take a breather for a few? Maybe some folks are also longing for some of the good old “Ma” days, and hope it comes inside Maga, bringing us back to a time when we knew less and it felt like we felt safe and cared for, and all the little definitions of what’s what and what we should do was spoon fed to us by others.
As we get older, we can see life’s confusing and profound connections, deep reckonings, the absurdity of understanding this complicated web called life. We grow into the knowing of the absolute impossibility of tracing the origin of anything, and the futility of blame. The consequences our own mistakes are fierce-some to behold, and tough on our self image too, especially if we think we were doing a good job.
I think right now, the entire culture is feeling nostalgia, and Gen X especially, is yearning for an earlier day. We are headed up to top tier on the elder wisdom scale.
And who here feels wise? Show of hands anyone??
It seems to be entire cultures wish they could go “back,” when things seemed easier. But they weren’t easy then either, we were just learning how to navigate, and if we were lucky, we had loving adults around who helped us steer our ship well. That’s the only difference: who ‘above’ can help us make sense of this thing?
So, I’m coining this term today to refer to that feeling I had of who I was when I was a toddler and Ma was my world, a shiny, moon-faced, loving, funny and absurdist seeker doing right by her family, and making me love life and nature.
Thanks Ma, I’m glad I still have time with you here. I’ll do my best to pass along the loving-kindness and safety and absurdist feelings to others so that their visions of a better day may also come to light.
A few questions for you, and maybe even for your Ma1
As a kid, what did I tend to do when nobody was telling me what to do?
What things did I tend to collect?
When did you “catch me” at my happiest? What was I doing?
You perhaps understood my intrinsic qualities and patterns better than anyone. You knew me as a baby. If you were to prescribe the happiest way forward for me to follow, what would you say?
What was it that made you happiest about being a parent? About being an adult?
FOOTNOTES
- Gen X is facing their parents dying. This is another step up the ladder of spiritual responsibility and also another step in becoming whole amidst grief. If your mom is no longer here, or not the kind of person who would answer these questions, then you can take a few minutes to tune into yourself being a parent, a loving relative, or an observer, and ask yourself these questions from that space. Wishing you all a beautiful mothers day too. ↩︎
