Not sure why, but today I have had this pervasive feeling that I — or is it "we?" — am party to closing the book on an era.
Yes, it's the final day of the 1st quarter.
Yes, today the old "SteemPeak" app/front end quietly faded into the sunset for the final time. Sure, that was an ending.
But there's something else.
I can't shake the feeling that's similar to knowing that this was the last day I was going to be on this planet, and tomorrow I will wake up in space, on my way to somewhere else.
But it's not in that disturbing "OMG, I'm having a premonition about my own death!" way... it's very peaceful and slightly sad.
Maybe it's more like just having watched the final episode of a favorite TV show you've been following for 12 seasons... and now it's gone, leaving some kind of empty space, and yet not.
One of my favorite concepts — The Japanese mono no aware — comes to mind. I've written about it before, so I won't bother again... but there are times when the pathos of things lives at the forefront of my awareness.
Feeling everything intensely is both a blessing and a curse. Sometimes it means picking up on nuances that typically go by, unnoticed.
There's another — even more obscure — term "anemoia," which loosely means to feel a sense of longing and nostalgia for a place and time you never actually lived in.
Except I have... and I haven't.
We lived in so many places; so many countries when I was a kid. Sometimes I feel a sense of loss for each life that did not extend from those places, when we left again, to head for the next place.
But time travel doesn't really work. I've tried.
After my mother died, I went back to the places in Spain where we lived when I was a teen; where my parents eventually retired. I stood there, and looked at those same places... still there... waiting to feel something. But you can't go back... not because the places aren't there, but because you are no longer the person who experienced those places and attached certain feelings to them.
Time travel doesn't really work.
Sometimes, I'm pretty sure I'm not only losing, but I have already lost my marbles!
I have often been told that "having" and "saving" all these fragments of feelings are a self-indulgent waste of time.
By what measuring stick, I wonder.
My "treasure chest" doesn't contain gold coins or mansions... just a myriad moments and the feelings that attached to them. And just like the collector might take out his or her gold coin collection to admire and enjoy from time to time, so I let these moments out of my own chest to revisit, however briefly. Because I can.
Most humans have forgotten how to feel; how to reflect on the tapestry of moments we've had.
In a more "genteel" time, I would undoubtedly have been described as a "having a melancholic temperament."
I'm OK with that.
It's not very practical, but I'm OK with that. My mother might have called it "moping." I'm OK with that, too. She never had a feeling that wasn't "shiny" for fear of having to experience something besides "cheerful."
Thanks for reading! Tomorrow we start in on a new quarter... may it be a good one, for all of us!
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Created at 20210331 23:07 PDT
0229/1472