Simple Nostalgia
Simple Nostalgia
A walk down memory lane and a rant about the Internet
I am writing to you today from my office desk in corporate Sydney. Outside my window is a park on the harbor and the sun is shining so brightly that the rays reflecting off the water almost blind me. It’s not lost on me how blessed I am to have this view of the city and to be in a role like mine, to work with great people and to be able to save more easily for the future. God has been very good to me indeed. But isn’t it just like the human heart to always be wanting more, never to be completely satisfied? I’m sure my hungry soul will never be full and happy until I stand face-to-face with my Maker. But for now, I will sit full-time at this desk with the view, being very thankful for this opportunity, all the while day-dreaming about simpler times.
I loved fairytales as a child. I loved picture books — but not the simple kind; the ones that made you believe you’d stumbled across a book hidden for years, only to have been found and read by you. You know, the books with the gilded edging on the pages, hard cover and cloth bound. And I’m sure that this episode of Timeless Tales didn’t help my imagination!
I don’t remember how I stumbled across looking at images from Foxwood Tales, A Visit to Fairyland and Brambly Hedge on Pinterest, so don’t ask me. But here I am nonetheless being led by nostalgia, filling my mind with images from my childhood. I’m sometimes scared at how well the Pinterest algorithm knows me.
I’m sure you are much the same as me, for seeing these images not only reminds me of my childhood, they also hold a type of hope for my future. A busy, warm kitchen. Picnics on summer days with friends and family. A life lived in community without TV or iPhone in sight.
I have written about this a few times now, and I don’t mind that I’m writing about it again today because I know I’m not the only one with these imaginations and longings. I have read countless articles now about how dissatisfied young people are with the online world, the growing loneliness epidemic, the anxiety and deep need for identity. In the 17 years since the iPhone was launched, we have outsourced our need for community, identity and validation from the people in our neighborhood, from those who know us best, to strangers online. We have swapped having 10-15 close friends who we could invite to our birthday lunch, with hundreds, if not thousands of “followers” who don’t live anywhere near us, and who we cannot call when we’re in need. We no longer go to our parents, grandparents, or teachers for advice, but to YouTube and TikTok creators — and the dangers of these exchanges are showing, and they’ve been showing for a while.
But I digress. Remembering these beautiful books and what life was like back then is making my heart hurt a little. Sure, I was only a child and so, of course, life seemed simpler to me because of childhood ignorance. But even so, I am asking myself — can I reclaim that simplicity? Will my children be able to grow up believing everything to be as simple and sweet as Brambly Hedge? Possibly. Probably not. There is always hope. But what I can do is teach them (and even now I can instill this within myself), that God is in control and He is very wise and always good. I can teach them (and myself) that He is a refuge to those who love Him, and that placing our hope in Christ is the safest place to put it. I can tell them (and myself) that there is always an opportunity to invite others to the dinner table, and perhaps even, to invite them into the Kingdom of God (and I’m sure a Foxwood style muffin wouldn’t go astray either).
I am not longing for the childhood ignorance of the 90s — I am longing for Heaven. And I think a lot of us are, both Christians and those who haven’t met Him yet (for Ecclesiastes tells us, eternity is set within our hearts).
So, come Lord Jesus! May that Day hasten. And in the mean time, lead us into true connection with God and neighbor (and to a really good muffin recipe).
With love from my corporate keyboard,
x Zara
Pretty sure my sister had those fairy books. Was there a mermaid one by the same author? Love the Brambly Hedge pictures. I wonder just how many imaginations they have captivated.