Lately I've been bathing in nostalgia, immersing myself in past influences, from music to literature to philosophical underpinnings that informed my world view, from between ages fifteen to twenty-five. Understand that, during those years, my ability to absorb all kinds of material was almost freakishly strong. Everything I could get my hands on, I gulped, chewed, and masticated into a potent paste of neurological nutrients.

I've looked back before, but never like this. It's like having a rear view mirror fused into my forehead. Why, suddenly, am I looking up information on Beck, Pavement and Riot Grrrl; wearing old sneakers that remind me of the 90s, and returning to books on Buddhism? Shouldn't that have gone out with the Aughts?

Morris, MN, fall of 2001, 21 year old me, sunkissed, singing, happy, popular, burning with youthful energy. Kissing girls, chewing on plastic cups, writing nonsense. That's now ten years past. An entire decade of transformation, twists and turns. I think that, when I really examine it, that was the last moment of purely unbridled satisfaction, when everything in my corner of the world aligned. I've never even come close to that, since.

It's probably that I've put enough distance between the less savory growing pains inflicting past memories to the point where there's a strong distinction about the best moments. Time heals, and with it, a clearer picture of what mattered. For me, happiness is only experienced retroactively.

Now, however, I have perspective, wisdom, and financial security that is allowing me to look back on that moment in time; a peace of mind that's undeniably important in its own right. I know I can't relive the past, but if I can, only for a moment, approximate those feelings by revisiting those cultural touchstones from that era, I'll do it anytime I possibly can. Pavement just reunited, so maybe they're feeling nostalgic, too.