longing

On the spur of an overcast Sunday moment, I decided to go to a 10:45 am showing of Midnight in Paris, which turned out to be my own private screening. As the story unfolded, I found myself thinking back to moments in my life when I felt as if I was born in the wrong era. Like the character in the movie, feeling misunderstood or out-of-step with the people and everything around me has sometimes made me long to be elsewhere connecting with those who need no explanations, who listen and don’t talk over me or ignore my contributions. Unlike the character in the movie, I have not time traveled physically to interact with creative individuals from the past. However, I have closed my eyes and journeyed while standing still imagining what it would be like to mingle amongst the writers, poets, musicians, photographers and artists of the Harlem Renaissance my favorite era.

I left the theatre wondering how we can be nostalgic for a period in time that we’ve never known. Maybe romanticized stories tap into empty spaces lined with some sense of familiarity filling them with a feeling of comfort or perhaps we did indeed live in another age that is stamped on our current DNA (if you happen to believe in reincarnation). More than likely, we are dissatisfied, unhappy, disillusioned and afraid to accept the truth and make the necessary changes believing that back whenever was better …but we know that’s not the case. Much like the character in the movie comes to realize, I am grateful to be living right now with all the advances and conveniences of these modern times. I am astounded by all that has happened since I arrived on the planet, can’t believe how what’s hip this second is already passé the next.  And much like keeping pace with the here and now, exposing our creative self can be both exhilarating and exhausting! Not all will get me, you or it and really, do we always want them to?

Unlike the character in the movie who loved walking in the rain and did so in the last scene, my preference is to stroll beneath a light drizzle, which I did until I stood still for a few, closing my eyes to take hold of the past, touch the future and long for nothing but my next breath.

keep your peepers open!®