Issue No. 39

There was an Instagram reel I saw a few weeks ago that basically said, "How do we know when the good times are? Maybe these are the good times, and we don't know it yet because they haven't passed.” It struck me because I had never thought about it. We often think that good times mean memories of a distant past. We romanticize it because it's something we cannot bring back anymore. It's there on the horizon, and it's no longer and will no longer be with us.

Ask anyone you know what they think of their childhood or high school periods. Most will say it's the best time of their lives, even though when they were in that period, they thought it was the worst. As a child, they couldn't do everything they wanted; they were often scolded and ordered to do something. As a high school student, they also couldn't do everything they wanted, with the added pressure of the surge of hormones in their bodies. So, why do they consider it the good old days now?

It's the same thing with millionaires or rich people. They romanticize the old days when they were poor, saying it's the best moments in their lives, yet not a single one would trade places with a poor person or give up their money to charity. Is it hypocrisy then, or just plain emotional attachment to the past?

I spent time thinking more about it because my previous writings also succumbed to this partial delusion. Maybe I was romanticizing the past too, even though it was not perfect. Or maybe, there were good aspects of my childhood that I only remember, and they now irrationally represent my entire childhood. Maybe that's it.

Then, as I dug deeper into this thought, it made me wonder about the current moment or what is happening to me these days. Maybe these are the good times, and they pass by slowly, one second at a time. Once this thought visited me, I no longer see moments as they are. Now, I think of them as memories being created as I experience them. I don’t know how I feel about it. It's like a second awakening. It's a combination of longing for what is happening as it happens and patience for what the future will reveal. Is such a thing possible? I guess this is what presence truly means—the ultimate appreciation for what is, not what will or what was.

If I die tomorrow, I know the good times have touched me, but they were good times as I saw them. They did not pass me by. I am here alive, and I will cherish more moments as if they are the last.

Sometimes, as I look back at my older pictures, I think, "How young, how naive, how fortunate to have had more time and potential." If I could talk to my younger self, I would tell him a million things. The road may not be merciful, but the future remains bright because, for as long as life continues, change is possible.

I want to make more good times.

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Until next week,