There's something really beautiful to me about reunions. I don't just mean with people, either. I can't tell you how many times I've lost a possession dear to me and then found it minutes, days, or even weeks later. I also can't properly tell you the joy I've felt upon finding these things again.
Of course, feeling joy in finding a lost blanket or water bottle could be easily chalked up as materialism's hold on me. Just hang on--I have other examples.
When I was a kid, we had a CD player in our car. My parents had their CDs that they liked to play as we'd drive, or even just while we were at home. The player broke a long time ago, however.
One night, during my junior year of high school (probably four or five years since the tragedy of the CD player), my sister and I were reminiscing on some of the songs we'd loved. We couldn't really remember the titles, lyrics, or tunes all that well, but we could scrape up enough that we at least knew what the other was talking about.
We got stuck on one song in particular, though, and after several minutes of trying to remember what it could be, we gave up and went to our parents. We never found that exact song, but as our dad went through songs he knew we'd recognize from those CDs and then our mom remembered some as well, the memories came flooding back. We suddenly remembered actions we'd do, running jokes we had, songs we'd loved. One song even made my sister, who takes pride in being stoic and emotionless, start crying just because she remembered loving it so much as a kid.
Did that night really matter? No, probably not. But it reunited me with some of the music that defined my childhood, and some of those songs have rekindled themselves as favorites of mine. So, no, that night doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things, but it's made life just a little more beautiful.
This same sister and I went through a period where pretty much all we watched on Friday and Saturday nights were movies that had meant something to us in our childhood. We had definitely grown out of some of them, and their cheesy jokes and poor acting made us almost embarrassed for our younger selves. Others, however, made us smile bigger than they ever had when we were kids and managed to retain a special place in our hearts.
Thus far, my second semester of college is the hardest I've had. During that semester, though, I came across a stunning video that affected my very soul. I literally felt my breath taken away, and I'm fairly certain my jaw just dropped. It was so beautiful. I'd watch it every night just before bed because the music and the visuals offered a most soothing effect. After a few weeks, it lost its magic and I didn't watch it. Months later--and I mean months later--I came across it again and was taken back to that time.
The interesting thing about it, though, was that I was reminded most clearly about the good things from that semester. Though I'd been homesick for the first half, I remembered the joy I'd felt in being at BYU-Idaho. Though I'd felt lonely more times than I could count, I remembered the times I'd spent with my friends. I just kept thinking of staring up into the night at the sand dunes at the end of the semester and seeing the most beautiful starry sky.
It's a short video and probably isn't meant to mean that much, but the way it captured my soul that first time was reignited when I came across it again at a later time. It wasn't exactly the same--I don't think I lost my breath or got teary-eyed. But even now, I find that by the end, my mouth is open in sheer awe.
Similar things have happened with music. I have a habit of replaying songs I enjoy until I'm thoroughly bored of them, so months or even a year or two may go by before I listen to them again. But when I do, the emotions come flooding back more powerfully than I could have expected.
Of course, you can rarely, if ever, capture the essence of that first time again. It's the whole unexpectedness of that initial meeting that makes it so captivating to the heart. But you can get pretty darn close.
Now, I'm not saying that you should stop watching your favorite movies, reading your favorite books, listening to your favorite songs, or eating your favorite foods so that you can reunite yourself with them sometime in the future. That's not worth it.
You have to reunite yourself with something you've lost. Think of a movie you once loved and still carry a soft spot for but that you haven't actually seen in some time. Think of a book that you once couldn't put down that you now can't seem to pick up. Think of a song you once knew every word to but can now barely remember the tune. Find something that was once a part of you that you've now lost, and put yourself back together. Reunite yourself with...well, you. It's good for you, probably. I wouldn't know, I'm just a writer. I just know that I always manage to feel better after I've done so.
"I'll always come back to what my heart knows."
