I've been thinking some more about the subject of last month's column: the myth of a time "when life made sense."

The notion of an idealized time somewhere in the past is one of humanity's most potent myths. It is found in every culture and every age-meaning that even in the so-called "good old days," people were pining for "the good old days."

There's a difference between buying into the myth of "a time when life made sense" and reminiscing about the past. Years ago, I decided that "On the Front Porch With You" would be the title of this monthly column because it had the ring of nostalgia, alluding to the time when many Americans congregated on their front porches each evening. But in my very first installment, I made a point of not sugar-coating the past: along with all the good found in such close-knit neighborhoods, I referenced neighborhood busy-bodies, gossipers, and long-lasting grudges between neighbors.

Reminiscing celebrates the good in the past while acknowledging and even laughing at the bad. Nostalgia doesn't deny past struggles; it affirms those struggles were worthwhile. In contrast, the myth of "a time when life made sense" is deceptive. When was that time exactly?

We might assume life made sense when we were kids. But for many of us, childhood was a time of blissful ignorance. If we probe deeper into our memories, we'll likely recall being disciplined by parents, reprimanded by teachers, and struggling to understand and conform to their expectations.
Our teens were probably marked with periods of open rebellion against parents, authority figures, and social norms. During our young adult years, we probably struggled while going to college, learning a trade, or finding a job. Romantic relationships included times of incredibly life-affirming joy mingled with periods of emotional confusion and, sometimes, painful loss.

At one point, we may have naively assumed parenting would be easier for us because we remembered what it was like to be a kid and understood everything our parents "got wrong." Lo and behold, a unique little human with individual wants, needs, and ideas comes into our lives-one who is utterly dependent on us for their survival, development, and well-being. Parenting, perhaps more than any other human endeavor, riddles with holes the very idea that life actually makes sense.

And yet, we're rational beings. Human intelligence exists to make sense of life. Our minds are gifted storytellers; storytelling is our most potent survival mechanism. Our memories are the stories we weave in an attempt to understand and find meaning in the past. But the song "The Way We Were" points to something we tend to do when creating those stories: "What's too painful to remember, we simply choose to forget."

The past, when remembered, usually makes sense. But we would be wise to admit that when that past was the present-when we were in the thick of living it-we were always struggling, to some degree, to make sense of life.

Rob Lauer is an award-winning, nationally-produced and published playwright with over 35 years of experience in the entertainment industry. His national credits include production work for MGA Films, Time/Warner TV, The Learning Channel and The History Channel. Locally, Rob has been producing, directing and hosting three TV series for PCTV (the City of Portsmouth’s official channel) since 2011.