And so it goes....

A new semester is upon us!

The next few months will be filled with the translation of ancient biblical Hebrew, attempts at preaching, deciphering the New Testament, and further forays into the theological writings of Karl Barth, John Wesley, and others. All this, of course, will transpire simultaneously with my continued search for romance, self-acceptance, and the best meat-loaf in Austin, Texas.

***

I feel nostalgic this evening. My soul is restless, tumultuous and though the hour is late, I do not foresee going to bed any time soon. I admit that I have had a few (ha!) drinks this evening, in an attempt to soothe my aching psyche, but the alcohol, as always, has failed to produce any permanent solutions to the problems which weigh heavy on my heart.

***

Why is that certain songs have the capacity to recollect dozens of memories of people, places, emotions? I once read that our sense of smell has the strongest ties to memory and I believe that this makes sense. Everytime I casually catch a whiff of a cigar, I am immediatly reminded of my grandfather; everytime I smell Ralph Lauren Safari, I am reminded of my first boyfriend-the one who granted me my first kiss and my first heartache. However, I would say that our sense of hearing, specifically, our association with certain songs, has an even greater capacity to recall the memories of loved ones, of circumstances and events long buried within the passage of time.

A favorite artist or composer loved by a former boyfriend/girlfriend forever associates that boyfriend/girlfriend with that artist. I was once semi-romantically involved with a guy who was a big Duran Duran afficiando; now when I hear Duran Duran, I automatically think of this guy who I was once enamored with but who also spurned my affections. Thus, whenever I hear Duran Duran, I am always filled with a "mixed drink" of emotions--the joy of remembering our brief romantic interlude, the sorrow of my ultimate rejection.

The danger lies in this feeling of nostalgia. Sometimes, when I desire to feel particulary nostalgic, I will play certain CD's or songs that I know will produce a specific emotional frame of mind. Other times, I will listen to certain CD's/songs, knowing full well that the songs will open the door to a myriad of emotional "flashbacks," but I choose to listen to the CD simply because I love that particular artist(s) and it would be silly to avoid the music for the sake of avoiding confrontation with emotional baggage. Some days, a song will innocently blare through my clock radio, and, through no fault of the radio or the DJ, my psyche will be immediately transported to a distant past filled with unrequited love and thus, my morning will be spent in melancholy reflection.

Of course, certain songs recall times filled with ecstatic joy; music is not limited to the recollection of bittersweet memories, although I would venture to say that pain and suffering are often stronger emotions than joy. Nostalgia, after all, is inherently bittersweet, regardless of how joyous the memory. Events in the past can never be revisited; therefore, recalling even the most happy of occassions is bittersweet because one has to also acknowledge that the joyous occasion will never be repeated or revisited.

I say these things not to ultimately condemn nostalgia, but rather to be honest with my sisters and brothers who happen to read this blog. Honesty, my friends, is the true and ultimate liberator!