| The word “nostalgia” derives from two Greek words: “algos,” meaning “pain or grief,” and “nostos,” meaning “homecoming.” Traditionally, the term referred to an acute pain associated with homesickness. It was even included in some medical manuals and treated as an ailment that afflicted those far from home, such as sailors or soldiers. Over time, its meaning has shifted to refer primarily to a yearning for a prior time or a desire to “come home” to the halcyon days of the past.
The bittersweet caress of nostalgia can come over a person suddenly, initiated by the simplest things: a half-forgotten melody, the smell of freshly cut grass, sunlight and long shadows on a familiar street, or an old book covered in dust. These triggers link us to formative memories. We wish we could return to them, but we witness those memories from behind an impenetrable glass wall.
For adults, some childhood experiences become heavily perfumed with nostalgia over time. Whether it was hunting with Dad, having picnics in the backyard with siblings, watching a favorite movie with cousins, or reading a book with Mom, over time, these experiences take on more meaning than they had in the moment.
The accessories of these memories—the old shotgun, the battered picnic basket, the faded book cover—remind us of the joys (and sorrows), the activities, the emotions, the places, and especially the people that formed us at our most impressionable ages, when all the world was new.
Nostalgia is more than just an interesting quirk of adulthood. Nostalgia has a formative effect as we age. The things we feel nostalgia over continue to shape who we are and write our story; they are an expression of that which is most precious to us.
In this way, nostalgia can still refine and reinforce our priorities and even our worldview in adulthood. Its irrational, visceral quality causes us to react instinctively to certain triggers, placing particular weight on them and what they signify, sometimes without conscious thought.
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