Like it’s 2003.
April 1, 2013 § Leave a comment
A good friend recently told me that I’m living my life like it’s 2003. Granted, I’d just told her that I’d been watching reruns of One Tree Hill and listening to Gavin Degraw’s album Chariot. Seeing as she lives a couple hundred miles away, I think she was worried. Shouldn’t I be doing more adult things, like applying to jobs or going out for drinks or reading Jack Kerouac?
Her comment made me think about the difference between reminiscing about the past and being stuck in the past — it’s a hard line to maneuver. If you think about it, each passing second falls into the vastness of your past. The past is ever-growing, the present is such a small window, and who even knows what the future is. But because your past never abandons you, it’s comforting to turn to it when you have nothing else to turn to, when you just want to remember who you are or when you want to laugh or cry.
Moving past the predictable past and accepting the uncertain future is a tricky concept. It’s easier to stick with what you know. For anyone that learned how to ride a bike at a young age, riding a bike will always be easier than learning a new language — unless you’re part of the small uncoordinated minority who find riding a bike difficult. When trying new things, there’s a huge scary monster called failure that lurks in the darkness. Why are the lyrics “make new friends but keep the old” imbued into every child’s mind at age 4? To remind us to try keep the past present but also to try something new, to start a new endeavor.
We all know that our pasts will always be there (for better or for worse) but life is about forward movement. A part of me will always be an angsty teenager who can watch One Tree Hill and belt out “Chariot” until the sun comes out, just like a part of you will always be your thirteen-year-old self.