Friday, February 23, 2007

Mourning Wonder

Last night I had a sudden urge to watch The Wonder Years, my favorite TV show from childhood. I hadn't seen the show in years but I realized with the advanced state of online entertainment I could probably find it pretty easily. Sure enough.

Aware that I would too easily get swept off into zombie eye land by the familiar glow of old sitcom faces, I allowed myself only two episodes. I decided to watch the pilot show and the series finale back to back. As old worlds unfolded, what began as healthy nostalgia soon developed into full blown melancholy.

When the finale ended, right where it had begun with Winnie and Kevin in arms, I walked over to the door of my apartment, opened it and stared out into the stark suburban night. It was a bleak sight, no soft edges or cozy colors. "It's not the wonder years anymore," I spoke out loud. The sadness was overwhelming.

But this isn't right! I shouldn't be mourning childhood like it was the last time life was good. I realized then that we mourn childhood more if we're unhappy with how thing's have become, but if I was proud of who I was and where life had taken me then I wouldn't be sad right now; I would just be happy to recollect good memories. And I would leave them in their place without comparing them to now.

So I came to the conclusion that to indulge in nostalgia in order to induce melancholy (as superficially comforting as that melancholy might be) is no less lamer than indulging in any other form of self pity. I know that the soft edges and cozy lights will return with a good life lived, and that the comfort of the world, or lack thereof, is only a reflection of my spirit. As a child, the spirit takes place more naturally, but as an adult its more determined by our actions and standard of life. Love is no longer an easy present for carefree afternoons in parks or backyard football with neighborhood friends. It's not an automatic thing anymore.

I believe that the good love comes through one's responsibility in this world fulfilled. And if we're not doing what we need to be doing, the affect of that will be the feeling of having lost something long ago. And the longer we carry on at half-standards the more we'll start to believe that that something's lost forever. This is my own situation anyway. But I'm determined to bring back the wonder.

1 comment:

Omata Daniel Onoda said...


that apartment is a secondary dungeon. what is our escuse for living there?