One constant in life is change. And when things change, invariably you lose some of the things that bring you comfort or happiness. What do you miss?
The types of things you miss can vary quite widely. It might be a material object, like a child missing a favorite teddy bear.
Others might miss a person, like a particularly meaningful teacher, or a family member that is far away, or deceased. You might even combine a physical object and a person, like a shirt reminding you of your father.
Maybe you fondly recall your favorite meal at a restaurant that has since closed. Or attending a concert of a band that has broken up.
Listen to a podcast where Michael and Lee discuss a related question: ‘How can we maintain wonder?’ We also discuss a bonus question: ‘How do you think others see you?’
There are also more abstract things to miss. Maybe you wish you were carefree like you were as a child, before you gained adult responsibilities.
On the other hand, you might miss things simply because you have grown older. Do you remember when you were skinny, or had all your hair, or didn’t need glasses?
Adding to all of this, of course, are the restrictions that have been in place over the last couple of years due to the pandemic. Some of us haven’t been traveling, or spending time with friends or loved ones. Our lives have changed in many ways since we went into lockdown back in March of 2020.
So what is it for you: a object, a person, a memory of days gone by? What do you miss?
Related questions: Who do you miss? How have you changed? What was the best time in your life? What is the best part about getting older? The worst?
I miss feeling free to hang out in coffeehouses. I am very COVID-conscious and will not eat or drink (that is, go without a mask) in indoor places where there are tons of people I don’t know, potentially breathing out the virus. This personal prohibition takes away one of my favorite Sunday activities. I used to listen to music while writing a journal entry to prepare for the upcoming week. The music allayed my Anxiety, generally, and my Sunday Scaries, specifically; the journal entry helped me feel prepared for the week ahead. Yes, I can do both of these things at home. But doing so in a coffeehouse just set my mind in a more open place.
That said, I think I would be more content if I heeded the lyrics from the Gogol Bordello song “Ultimate”:
There was never any good old days
They are today, they are tomorrow
It’s a stupid thing we say
Cursing tomorrow with sorrow