Back to the Future: Originally Published in Family Talk Magazine

Back to the Future

We embrace (or kiss) in the ambiguous seconds between one day and the next--between one year and the next--and sing a song (or try to) to which few of us actually know the words. I imagine Robert Burns would scold us all in his Scottish brogue for massacring his poetry so. Auld Lang Syne undergoes various pronunciations and variations, often depending on the age, intellect, or singer’s level of intoxication. And yet, no matter where I end up on New Year’s Eve, the familiar tune plays. I’m disinclined to do something for the mere sake of tradition. The why matters to me. Why a song from 18th century Scotland? Why, if it’s so significant, don’t more people know the words?

I researched Auld Lang Syne as an English major in college, and I taught it as a high school English teacher--not because I found anything particularly pressing to say about it (although I do appreciate Burns’ poetry), but because I wanted my students to at least know the words--and the meaning of these words--should they find themselves singing it one day.

The jist of it is this: should the past be forgotten or preserved, fondly, in our memories? Auld Lang Syne, means roughly, times gone by. And that, is perfect reason to sing this particular song in those moments of transitional celebration. Maybe networks could air a segment on the song prior to the also traditional ball drop, firework, and celebrity stacked extravaganzas…. though probably not.

I found myself compelled to watch the Starz series Outlander based on the popular novels by Diana Gabaldon. So much so that, I bought the books, unable to wait until the series returns in April to learn what would happen next. Claire, the main character, has just reunited with her husband at end of World War II, when her life becomes split between the twentieth century and eighteenth century Scotland. 

Like Claire, I too visited Scotland on my honeymoon. Unlike Claire, I was never sucked back in time through a ring of standing stones. Still, I often catch myself reminiscing about that trip of a lifetime…. and a time seemingly more carefree, before routine, children, careers. But having lived it, I know that, even then, we were longing for something more--in most cases, the things we now take for granted…. routine, children, careers. Our lodgings proved fine, most more lavish than any I’d enjoyed before or since. The countryside, breathtaking. The history, as hauntingly resonate as the bagpipes--both eerily palpable. It was a fairytale, and yet, I remember feeling homesick to the point that we, one day, ate lunch in the most American TGI Friday’s where we were tickled to hear  Bruce Springsteen’s Born in the USA. We longed for independence but coveted the idea of beginning a family too….

Following the War, Claire and her husband return to Scotland from England for a second honeymoon. While there, she falls through the standing stones and into the 1700s. Claire doesn’t change, at least not immediately, although her circumstances do. An educated modern woman, she awakens in a dangerously masculine society. The English nurse must reinvent herself as a healer--in Scotland. In her case, the future is physically her past…. knowledgeable of vaccinations and antibiotics, she now exists in a world in which germs, diabetes, and feminism won’t exist by name for another two centuries. And, there’s the matter of a wee power struggle between the English and Scots…. Can you imagine?

Of course, Outlander is merely fiction--quality fiction, I must add, but as literature often does, it incites reflection. Mindful of Outlander, and Auld Land Syne, I find myself contemplating the connection between future and past. We celebrate the New Year and all its promise, not knowing what is to come. And while we’re often cautioned not to live in the past, I can’t help but insist that paying mind to our old acquaintances isn’t a bad idea either.

Last month I interviewed Mrs. Audrey Tutt Smith for the Family Portrait featured in this issue. She’d tell you that she’s known me since before I was born, and as I wrote in the article, she is in my earliest memories. While time travel remains impossible, standing stones or no, I’ve begun to notice the patterned circles of time in my own life. Perhaps it’s because I’ve chosen education as my vocation (or rather, accepted God’s gentle insistence that this is what I’m meant to do) that I’ve found my path reunited with some of the most influential figures in my own education. Mrs. Audrey Smith gave me reading. Now, I am librarian in the high school to which segregation denied her entry. I look forward to being there when her great-niece enters as a freshman. How can I look ahead without acknowledging the significance of the past and its impact on the future? On her future. On my future. On our future.

One could argue that, of course paths will cross with infinite possibility when one remains in the same area where she grew up, and maybe that’s so. But, have you ever been on vacation, states or even countries away, only to run into an acquaintance from your hometown? I have. No, not in Scotland, but in Nova Scotia….

I have to embrace the certainties of my future which exist because of the recent and distant past. Sure, looking forward is important, but so is reflecting, at least at times, on our collective past. What better time than at the turn of the year? We’re urged to check the batteries in our smoke detectors when we spring forward and fall back….perhaps in the same fashion we should check our bearings at the New Year. Perhaps it’s human nature to romanticize the past, but I wonder: don’t we sometimes do the same with the future? Often I hear, “Oh when 19-- is over…” or “I can’t wait for 20-- to begin!” or, “It’s sure to be better than 20--.” But are our lives really meant to be categorized this way? I can’t recall if 1989 was, for me, a good year or a bad year. Awkward, likely, is the most appropriate modifier. I was eleven, after all.

Copyright © 2014. Carrie Ellen Campbell. All Rights Reserved. http://carriellencampbell.blogspot.com. Please respect Carrie's intellectual property. Sharing blog posts is permitted, but no part of this material may be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Contact Carrie at: carrieellencampbell@icloud.com.

Perhaps we should take heed from Robbie Burns. Should old acquaintances be forgotten and never brought to mind? While he may not have intended the song to fit the space between the outgoing and incoming years, it seems to fit quite nicely there. Perhaps we should use the past to empower our future, wizened by experiences, rather than intoxicated by romanticized ideas of what could be….