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Why the past is perfect.

At lunch with a friend this afternoon, we were talking about how in hindsight all our experiences seemed perfect and worthwhile. While, during the said period, it seemed like everyone was miserable and unhappy. I recall a similar experience.

In 2010, I lived for a year in Durham, UK doing my Masters. I remember my time there as we remember most of our travels – thrilling and happy, everything new and strange. This is funny, since, if I think back honestly, while I was actually there I did not feel “happy”. In fact, I cribbed incessantly about the loneliness, the cold weather and the long distance relationship with my husband.

I was miserable through out the summer I spent in Durham. Although, arguably when I think back one it, it was one of my happiest summers. Some of the happiest memories of my life are of playing badminton at all odd hours of the day or night with my friends, eating a pizza and chatting with my friends about our lives. Even though this whole time I was miserable about how I was lonely, in retrospect it seems obvious that I did end up making a lot of close friends during that time.

I wonder if it is just me who experiences happiness mainly in retrospect. I remember everything about that summer where I was in a foreign country, and everything seemed alien, brilliant and glinting. Maybe what we consider "happiness", is actually the intensity of experience.

There are certain moments in life that I can very vividly remember that brought me immense happiness. But this kind of intense happiness is short-lived; because most often, as soon as we notice it, we push it away (as someone put it - like blocking yourself from remembering a word by trying too hard to retrieve it).

An article I once read said "Perhaps the reason we so often experience happiness only in hindsight, and that chasing it is such a fool’s errand, is that happiness isn’t a goal in itself but is only an after effect." Couldn't agree more.

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