29 December, 2007

Atavism and New Year's Resolutions

I've been thinking a lot about reversion and the process of self-discovery. I feel like there's a pattern to human growth, but it can't be measured in a linear way. People are more like trees: we grow in soft circles that gently pulse away from a center. For this reason, I don't think life should be measured in big, arbitrary chunks like years or even days. Life follows a more windy path, and one that's full of discoveries and re-discoveries. Relationships grow and change shape, the lingo bounces around a little, sometimes the music sounds different, but everything loops back upon itself and often atavism is right around the corner.

On Christmas night, at about 11:00, I found myself watching a VH1 show. It was a mundanely constructed countdown show that revolved around the best songs of the '90s. Now there are things about the '90s I'd rather not remember. I had some good times and I had some lousy times, but most of it was at least okay, and I made it through basically unscathed. Still, there are moments forever tied to the music of the '90s that can be intensely nostalgic and cringe-worthy at the same time. I remember cassette tapes of Gloria Estefan and Sheryl Crow. I remember singing all the words to "Whatta Man" and "You Oughta Know" at a tender age, and getting my first real CDs: Spice by the Spice Girls and Let's Talk About Love by Celine Dion. Well, my earliest musical choices were vindicated by a VH1 countdown show; "Wannabe" and "My Heart Will Go On" both made the list of greatest '90s songs. I watched with some amusement as "Mmmbop" and "Baby Got Back" were replayed on the countdown, and when "Smells Like Teen Spirit" (big surprise) came in first, I glanced at the clock and noticed how time had flown by again. It was like watching my childhood on fast-forward, and feeling about ten-million emotions with every note of almost every song. Intense.

It's not like I ever really wanted to leave some of those emotions behind. The smells and the feelings of being nine are part of me, part of my life tree. I can always sit and count the rings of my life, even sometimes look at the bumps and scars that have added so much character, but there's a difference between remembering a feeling and feeling a feeling.

On Christmas night I bought the album Leaving Through the Window by Something Corporate. It's an old album by conventional standards, released in 2002 to the great excitement of almost every teenage girl with a rocker chick inside. It's lovely and unabashed emotive rock, and it makes me feel some of that enthusiasm and emotion I had when I was thirteen. I'm still enthusiastic and emotive, but a little older and less capricious, I hope. I still crave a good love song as much as anyone, and I've also realized that I don't want to lose the excitement of my youth. Why shouldn't everything be important? Why shouldn't every success be celebrated profusely, and every failure felt? I don't want to grow numb to the things that matter, and I don't want to measure my life in a straight line. My New Year's Resolution is to experience a little atavism. I don't want to revert to immaturity or forget any of the lessons I've learned, but I don't want to lose any of my life either: I want to remember that I have lived and that I am living. I think this resolution will stick.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!



What's better than a piano-dancing Andrew McMahon?

1 comment:

Hamford said...

"...I've also realized that I don't want to lose the excitement of my youth. Why shouldn't everything be important? Why shouldn't every success be celebrated profusely, and every failure felt? I don't want to grow numb to the things that matter, and I don't want to measure my life in a straight line."

That is absolutely beautiful writing, I really appreciate your wisdom and the incredible ability you have of verbalising it so well.

Awesome post as usual!