I've been painting pictures of Egypt

Leaving out what it lacks

The future feels so hard

And I want to go back

But the places that used to fit me

Cannot hold the things I've learned

Those roads were closed off to me

While my back was turned.

The lyrics to this 2001 song by Sara Groves spell out everything that's wrong with nostalgia. "Painting Pictures of Egypt" is based on the biblical story of the Israelites' 40 years in the wilderness as they made their way to the Promised Land. At one point in their seemingly unending quest for the Land of Milk and Honey, they complained to Moses about the manna they were receiving and lamented how they missed the food they had in Egypt -- the meat, cucumbers, melons, etc. Of course, missing from their fond reminiscence was the fact that back in Egypt they had been slaves. Talk about a gap in memory. 

But memories are like that. The further we get away from a situation, the harder it is sometimes to recall all the negative experiences from the past. Instead, the perceived positives, however few and far between they were at the time, float to the top and sit in the light, demanding focus. 

The Welsh have a word for this sense of nostalgia combined with loss -- hiraeth. Apparently the idea encapsulated in this word is not easily translated into English, but "it combines elements of homesickness, nostalgia and longing. Interlaced, however, is the subtle acknowledgment of an irretrievable loss – a unique blend of place, time and people that can never be recreated. This unreachable nature adds an element of grief, but somehow it is not entirely unwelcome."

I was going through some old photos recently, and when I came upon the picture at the top of this post (which is actually not a picture of Egypt), I was struck with my own sense of nostalgia. The picture isn't much to look at, but I distinctly remember the moments in which I took that photo. It was two days after Christmas and I had just gotten home after a 6 hour trip driving back from visiting family for the holidays. It was snowing in Central Texas and that was what I was trying to capture in that photo, however unsuccessfully. I remember the cold, the quiet, the darkness, the sense of being almost home after a long trip, the excitement at seeing these rare, baby snow flurries. I was living in a tiny town, had a group of great friends, and was doing a job I liked. Just as sudden, while looking at that picture, I then remembered that everything wasn't perfect at the time either. I was nearing the end of a frustrating on-again, off-again apathetic relationship, and I'd gained a bunch of weight emotionally eating as a result.  And not too long after, I'd be faced with uncertainty regarding both my living situation and my employment, leaving me with no idea what the next step was or where I would be even months later.

Our memories are not nearly as reliable as we'd hope. According to the Constitutional Rights Foundation, studies have shown that mistaken eyewitness testimony accounts for about half of wrongful convictions. In undergrad, one of my professors told of an experiment he used to conduct in class. He would have a colleague run in and "hold up" the class in a pretend robbery. After the thief had fled, he'd explain that he needed descriptions to turn into the police from all the class members. The descriptions the students submitted were incredibly varied as to the weapon, the clothing, and the physical description of the assailant.  Most of them got it wrong.  (Incidentally, my professor said he had to stop doing this experiment after one of the students once tackled the fake offender.) Whether we'd like to admit it or not, our memories are fallible, especially when accompanied with stress, fear, or other high emotion. Sometimes it's just the details that are fuzzy, sometimes the big picture.

Trauma can also affect memory. Scientists believe that our brains actively work to protect us from traumatic experiences. Instead of storing these bad memories in easily accessible places where normal memories are kept, our brains activate a different system and store memories in places that make them harder for us to recall. 

Forgetting the bad we've been through isn't always a positive. Sometimes memories like this keep us safe. It's how we learn. Remembering the times we've been burned makes us more careful around fire.  Once after a particularly bad relationship, I actually made a list of all the reasons I ended it, so, if tempted to go back or if experiencing a lapse in memory, I could re-read alllll the reasons that was a terrible idea. It worked. 

It's only natural to reminisce about the past. The further we get, the more of it there is to think about! Remembering it accurately and being honest in our heads about what really happened -- to the extent our brains will let us, apparently -- is what's important. I know sometimes I've wished I could go back to a time when, looking back from the future, I felt things were much better than they are in present day. Maybe before making a certain decision, meeting a certain person, or making a certain move. Like the Sara Groves song says, sometimes the places you long for the most are the places where you've been. But being stuck there is a disability. Arrested development is more than just a TV show. You can't grow as a person if you don't move. You can't un-learn your lessons or un-know the truth, even if you choose to ignore them for a time. And once you've moved on, as the song says, the places that used to fit you can't hold what you've learned;  that door was closed behind you while your back was turned.