I’m Nostalgic Because I Enjoy The Moment

Traveling in the past taught me to ‘be’ in the present.

The longer quarantine has gone, the more I have reflected on my travels.

Primarily I’ve been reflecting on my time living in France. I haven’t been nostalgic of being there for a while. My nostalgia for France used to be a lot more present in my life. Until I became a “real adult” and had responsibilities after graduation. That evolution happened over the course of December 2018 and January 2019, the time of my graduation.

Isn’t it funny to see how different my priorities were in the past? In 2018, I was mainly concerned with mastering the French language conversationally, and today I’m mainly concerned about getting more tutoring clients, writing on Medium, growing The Riff, and working on my podcast startup.

Just two years ago, all I wanted to do was walk around European cities and mingle with the locals. I didn’t have any refined ambitions. The only “serious” thing I did was help out my friend on a small project for a gubernatorial campaign. It didn’t really amount to anything, but it was cool to learn more about running for governor. We would have calls at two a.m. my time in France. That was the only serious thing I did while studying abroad.

To say that it was one of the best times in my life is an understatement. It got tiring to be in a slow Riviera town after a while, though the experience is one to treasure.

What should I make of this time in my life? Should I yearn to be back in the South of France? Should I wish that I were on the Mediterranean coast eating olives and drinking red Bordeaux instead of being quarantined in Florida?

While it would be nice to be back in France, that’s no longer my life anymore. It’s not unfortunate, it’s just a different time in my life. Back then there wasn’t a global pandemic. I didn’t have responsibilities in America.

My life, maybe like yours, is on a geographical hiatus. I’m not sure when I’m going to return to Europe. This was something I was much more worried about a few months ago than today. That’s because I’ve moved on. And I’m proud to say that.

We can’t yearn for the past when we have to build ourselves a better future.

Living on the Mediterranean coast of France was amazing, but it wasn’t a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I’m definitely going back. All of my projects and income streams are done remotely. I do not need to be in a physical location.

Knowing that it wasn’t a once-in-a-lifetime makes me very optimistic. And this time France is going to be ten times better. I’m going to have more money to spend on traveling. I’m going to be free of classes. Going to school was such a burden while traveling abroad. “I was there for study abroad” is total bullshit. Does anyone go to Europe to actually study?

Freedom, at last.

That won’t happen unless I make my ambitions a reality, which I know I will. It’s a matter of when, not if. I know that The Riff will grow and that we will generate revenue. Although our subscriber base is low, it’s very active and we only just started marketing it less than a week ago. I’m also extremely passionate of what we’re doing. The Riff is my baby, and I treat it as such. I kept on making it what I wanted it to be as a music fan. First it was just a music blog, then it became a hub for music bloggers to congregate. Then we started interviewing musicians and running press releases for them. Finally we’ve bundled those two things into a daily newsletter.

All of these things happened from constantly discovering problems in the music media industry. The first problem was that there wasn’t a place for me to blog about the Red Hot Chili Peppers, among other things related to music. The second problem was lack of discoverability. Why does it seem that there’s no good new music coming out?

What I learned was that good music wasn’t missing as much as it was not being covered by the mainstream media. I first found this in Asheville. My friend Mara recommended me a couple of musicians there, and they were fun to listen to. I interviewed those musicians, and they recommended me to more Asheville artists. I never heard of any of them, and many were just as good as the mass market music we listen to. This music is neither covered by Rolling Stone nor Spin nor any other outlets (other than super niche or small local ones, but none on a massive scale). My vision for The Riff evolved as we interviewed more musicians. The more musicians I interviewed, the worse I saw the problem for what it was.

The problem with the music industry is this: it’s not that there isn’t supply, it’s that no one knows of the supply. In other words, there’s buried treasure waiting to be discovered.

And buried treasure have we found at The Riff. The music we cover is genuinely fantastic, and the artists behind it are even better. Saint Tone, whose interview is being published this Wednesday, performed at President Obama’s Inaugural Ball in 2008. Banana Chant, whose interview was published last Friday, wants to bring 90’s rock music back to the scene. They want to take what bands like the Red Hot Chili Peppers and The Romantics did well in the Nineties and bring it today. That’s pretty fucking cool.

I’m happy to be in the situation I’m in right now. Despite the fact that I miss France and traveling a lot, I’m doing awesome work that gives me a large sense of purpose.

I also want to add that this isn’t a story of me once being open to the world and now being “stuck” with responsibilities. I don’t feel stuck. Feeling stuck is a mindset. In fact, I had no idea a quarter of a year ago that I would start a music magazine with one of my best friends. I made all the digital assets for The Riff (logos, initial website design, first few articles) all over a weekend. I did it because I decided to do it. I thought, “why not?” What did I have to lose? It didn’t take much effort, and I already had a daily writing habit anyways. It took time to develop that, too, but it was easy to do that. That’s because I do it out of love. And that love gives me a sense of purpose. And passion.

Yesterday I was strumming my guitar for seven hours. I did nothing from 2:30 p.m. to 10 p.m. but strum my guitar, the same pattern over and over again. I barely checked my phone. I barely did anything else. I was enjoying the moment. I was being in the moment.

It’s hard to do that when the environment around you — overworked and/or unemployed America in a pandemic — is always in apprehension. But I’m resisting. I don’t stand for being constantly anxious of the past and future. I stand for being in the present.

That’s why I have fun doing things that people call “work”. Starting a magazine and writing for one takes a lot of effort. But it’s easy because I’m enjoying the process. What is there not to love? I’ve learned many life and career lessons from interviewing musicians. I’ve also made friends along the way, both writers and musicians.

Making an effort is not a hassle if you love being in the moment. It’s a matter of framing. Will this be a two-hour spree of cold marketing on Twitter? Or will this be a two-hour spree of meeting cool, like-minded music fans who are probably interested in The Riff?

Writing this essay is an effort. But what is there not to love about this? I’m listening to great music while sharing my thoughts and feelings and observations. It takes an effort to begin the writing process then the process itself is easy to maintain. You just have to enjoy the moment.

This is how I enjoy nostalgia. I remember my times in France because I enjoyed them. And I’m going to remember my time building things while in quarantine because I’m enjoying it.

I’m not nostalgic because I yearn to return to the past. I’m nostalgic because I enjoy the moment.

P.S. If you liked my story, here are some of my favorite personal essays I’ve written!