Looking Forward and Back

Los Angeles, California

After listening to an interview with the writer, Hua Hsu, I pondered something he had said about life and aging. He observed that when we are young, we are always looking forward. Looking to the future. My friends and I moaned that we couldn't wait to be out of high school so we could have the freedom to do the things we wanted to do which was unthinkable in our parents' home. Parenthetically, my generation grew up to allow their kids to do anything they wanted in their homes. But the parents of boomers generally provided boundaries and consequences.

I refer to college as the best time of my life that I couldn't wait to be over. I took a year off after barely a year of college and worked full-time for Prudential Insurance in the home office mail pay division. After a few months of that I started looking forward to going back to school, which I did. By the middle of my junior year, I considered taking some more time off but opted instead to carry more units to finish faster. I was looking forward to graduating. And the following year, looking forward to starting life with my fiancé who subsequently became my husband for thirty-five years.

After we married, I suggested that we save money by working two jobs and then taking a year to live in the south of France. He said no; that we should save money to buy a home. And we did, and I suppose he was right. But I also believe it was the first indication that I would need to suppress a side of me that wanted a different sort of life.

In early and mid-married life there was a lot of striving. As we looked around us: Buying a home; having kids; getting financially stable and secure were all things to be attained. We didn't hit every point, but maybe all that striving is what took him out. I will never really know for sure, but after three and a half decades, out he was. And I carried on. Eventually retirement loomed ahead. Through all of the looking ahead, there was a gradual shift where I began to look back. Now I look back a lot. Too much. And after the interview, I thought: When is the time when we are in the moment?

In meditation you strive for being present. It's not easy, but it is the beneficial space between past and future. I wonder if this inability to attain that space is partly what is wrong out there. No one is living in their present. People in their cars rush about dangerously. Friends together lament past disasters, both personal and public. We all do it. Is it possible, outside of meditation, to actually live our lives now?

What I love about dance, specifically for me salsa dance, is that it forces you to be present. As a follower, you have to be present, because you don't have any clue as to where you might be led. Playing sports is different. You have to utilize anticipation. But salsa is like good sex. You don't quite know where it's going but what you bring to it is being spontaneous and responsive. Maybe that's why we dance. It is like meditation in that you are in that space, but also like sex, which can be accompanied by music, and sometimes tequila.

There is an aspect to writing that puts you in the moment. When I start a post, I don't really know where I'm going with it. Sometimes I only bring a title to these blogposts. In writing larger works like a novel, I have started with a conclusion. And then, the title has generally come last.

In the larger sense, we are told that being in the moment and not looking forward nor back is a better place to be. A healthier place. But it is also a daunting process to get there and to stay there. But while we might never cease to look forward and back, the effort is worthwhile. After all, you can't live your life on a dance floor (nor in constant sexual activity à la Sex and the City). Then again, wouldn't that be wonderful?