In college, I saw a friend post on Instagram: “I have preemptive nostalgia for this bubble bath.” I immediately fell in love with the phrase. Preemptive nostalgia. Ever since, I have kept (that phrase) in what would be equivalent to that kitchen drawer you store random things in - believing someday, sometime, I might need it.

More than anything, I’ve come to realize that it’s a feeling that I want to cultivate in my life.

Here’s my definition of preemptive nostalgia:

• Anticipatory gratitude. To yearn from your present moment; to not want to be anywhere else.

• It feels like: Romanticizing your life. You see yourself as a movie character; you have perspective. Enough perspective to pause and truly bite into your current experience, soaking it all in.

• While preemptive nostalgia is a coveted experience that means you are experiencing something special, there is a strong tinge of sadness to it. There’s a little tug on your heart because you don’t want what you are currently experiencing to end.

  • That experience teaches us that sadness can be a beautiful thing.

  • Furthermore, oftentimes humans want to or think we can only feel one emotion at a time - in reality, we feel many layered emotions, sometimes contrasting ones, all at the same time. Preemptive nostalgia wraps up childlike joy, grief, and present-moment-magic all into one experience.

It’s easy to forget to pause and feel gratitude for the present moment. I get caught up in text messages that I haven’t responded to, homework assignments that are waiting for me, and that imminent rush towards the next thing.

And that is why I write.

With writing, I get to pause, notice, and savor. I get to choose where I am pointing my attention. With writing, I get to taste life twice.

Here are moments when I have felt preemptive nostalgia:

• The first day of vacation.

• My sunrise swims. I race to the beach barefoot, no phone. The world feels quiet. I go alone but I don’t feel lonely. The morning sun is gentle and dances along the ocean’s surface. I reluctantly dry myself off, wishing I could stay in the water all day.

• Lying in bed with my best friend on our last day of high school, listening to “Slide” by the Goo Goo Dolls.

• Hearing my favorite band play live for the first time.

There is a delicacy in experiencing preemptive nostalgia. If I think too deeply about it - I hear this scared voice say, “I’m suspicious. This moment is too good to be true. It’s going to go away and life will just be hard again.” The first day of vacation is over, you and your best friend part ways for college, you have to get out of the water, dry yourself off, and go to school.

But that’s kind of the point. All moments are temporary. The good moments and the hard ones. Not leaning into joyous moments does not protect me from those future-bad-things from happening. Instead, I often look back and say, “Man, I wish I really soaked all that goodness in while it was happening.”

After going through I life transition where it was easier to notice “preemptive nostalgia,” I thought about how I want to actively cultivate this feeling more often.

Let’s write to savor the feeling of anticipatory gratitude. Here’s your mindfulness writing prompt for today:

• What does preemptive nostalgia mean to you? How would you define it?

• When in your life have you felt preemptive nostalgia? Make a list.

• What are moments in this chapter of your life that you want to feel more gratitude for - to hold onto and savor?

Thanks for being here!