Sarah and I have been continuing the #reverb challenge into 2016 with monthly prompts, and two of the previous founders of this great project, Meredith and Kat are rejoining us! You can join in anytime by signing up here. There is no obligation to write every month or even post what you write, signing up is just about receiving a prompt and using it as you wish. Use the #reverb16 hashtag when posting on social media so we can find you!
Nostalgia | As the summer winds down, tell us about your favorite summer memories from this year (or any year). We want to see your freckled faces and tanned skin. Show us your summer.
We got a hammock this summer. Just a few weeks ago, actually, so I can't even claim that I'm nostalgic over my summer (and summers past) full of hammock-specific moments that I will cherish forever. But that makes me question what nostalgia is and what qualifies a moment as being nostalgic.
It seems that when an experience, like a day at the beach or a hike, or a thing, like a hammock or t-shirt, is intrinsically entwined with a strong rush of emotions, it sticks with you in a way that any other day or item might not. I guess that is why we can become nostalgic about the most basic seemingly unimportant things. Like a fragrance. Or a song. It brings all those associated emotions back clear as day.
This year, like many years in our lifetimes, I got some terrible news that shook the core of my being. It happens on interval to us all, and we are lucky if the intervals don't get too close to one another or overlap so that we can be present with ourselves in the emotional height of one specific situation, rather than be divided among many. My resiliency can afford me a single situation. But in any case, this emotional trauma was existing within me right at the moment that I got this hammock.
So when I swung in it, dreamed in it, thought the worst thoughts possible in it, fought to think the best thoughts in it, problem solved in it, hugged my sweet dog in it, cried in it, napped in it, and felt All Of The Things in it... it became an object of nostalgia. It's been A Thing in my life for only a short while, but what is clear to me is that time is not an indicator of significance. Nostalgia could be developed over time unbeknownst to us, or hit us with the weight of a heart breaking in half, fully aware.
Either way, it is a symbol that we not only have lived, but we have felt.