Nostalgia vs. Reflection
Roderick Benns is the publisher of The Advocate. An award-winning author and journalist who grew up in Lindsay, he has written several books including Basic Income: How a Canadian Movement Could Change the World.
It was a black pickup truck on Kent Street in Lindsay, with a sticker affixed to the back window that caught my attention recently. In serious, we-mean-business block letters, it read: I Want My Canada Back.
Now I’m not sure who took this person’s Canada. The last time I checked it was still here, notwithstanding the wishes of the authoritarian octogenarian to the south of us. (Close enough on the age.)
This sticker could represent many things, from bigotry, to racism, to small-mindedness. We don’t know.
But even at its most benign, it’s clear the creator of the sticker trafficked in nostalgia, as did the buyer when they slapped it on their truck.
Nostalgia is a dangerous commodity. At its best it wears rose-coloured glasses, wallowing in wistful, feel-good memories. And at its worst, it’s a gateway drug to intolerance.
Reflection is a much different enterprise we engage in, if done well. Reflection asks us to reckon with our current beliefs and consider other viewpoints. It offers the gift of growth, based not just from remembering something, but from extracting meaning from experience.
When we reflect, we engage with our past in a way that allows us to mature, learning from successes and failures alike.
That’s not to say we can’t get misty eyed when The Facebook reminds us of our child’s eighth birthday, or a loved one who is no longer with us. That’s just being human. The difference is in how long we engage with those memories vs. connecting with the here and now, in willingness to move forward.
Nostalgia can be a trap to which we succumb; reflection offers integration and a throughline between our past and our present. One is a fixed mindset, the other is a growth mindset.
When I think about this topic, you may be surprised to know that I turn to Odin. As an autodidact for all things Norse, I find the ruler of the Norse gods provides a helpful perspective.
Huginn and Muninn are Odin’s ravens, serving as his loyal messengers, helping the Allfather, as he was known, to perceive everything that unfolds. Huginn, meaning “Thought,” represents the rational side of Odin’s intelligence, always processing information and making logical connections. Muninn, meaning “Memory,” represents the ability to recall past events, learn from history, and retain wisdom that has already been acquired.
Odin’s ravens represent the perfect blend of nostalgia and reflection. In the Poetic Eddas, Odin was most concerned about the raven Memory returning to him each day, even more than Thought. I always thought this strange at first, but Norse scholars believe that Odin’s reliance on Memory is so vital that any lapse (symbolized by the bird’s absence) could impair his ability to recall previous lessons, thereby weakening his wisdom and foresight.
Recalling previous lessons is critical in our own lives, too. Nostalgia reminds us of what mattered, but it’s reflection that brings clarity – ensuring our past is not merely about longing, but about actively moving forward.
