Life: try to taste before swallowing
Experience your life. Live it, but let it penetrate your soul, complete with all its joys, pain and difficulty. Let it leave a mark. Savour your life. Like food, roll it around on your tongue.
File image for illustration: iStock
It’s easy to be cynical about social media, but it really does have some elevating features. The Facebook memories feature is one of these.
This is not just because we tend to post events and experiences that showcase our lives in the best possible light. At the time of the post, we are probably doing it to impress others. However, a few years later, when that post shows up as a Facebook memory, we end up impressing ourselves.
“Wow!” we end up saying. “I was living my best life four years ago at Oppikoppi!”
Meanwhile, it’s still recent enough for us to remember that, yes, that was the ‘Koppi where we paralysed our hand and our phone got stolen.
Ah, social media. Often rose-coloured filters are the only ones we use.
But sometimes our memories are indeed rosy, with a golden trim and a cherry on the top. And we might not have even realised it at the time.
I recently got to reminisce about a day I had exactly a decade ago, in the year of our lord 2010. It was a work day, and at the time I was posting incidentally while I went about my business. In fact the social-media posts were part of my work. That’s how busy I was.
But looking back now, it was a pretty awesome work. From what I’ve been able to piece together from Facebook memories, this is what my day involved…
I would have risen from my bed around 4am, then dragged myself to OR Tambo to catch a flight to Durban. (Remember flights? Remember OR?)
It appears I made my flight, because my first posts show me, on set at Wavepark Gateway. I am the editor of FHM magazine, bikinis-and-japery publication to the stars, and we are filming a TV commercial.
The ad stars Roxy Louw, our cover model of the time, and daughter of former Springbok Rob Louw. She has some kind of tongue-in-cheek interaction with a surfer executing some high-action manoeuvres on the standing wave at the Wavepark. It’s a simple enough script, which I wrote, and I am directing it.
After shooting, we retire to the nearest restaurant for an impromptu wrap party, with some FHM readers, who have come to watch the shoot and to meet Roxy. I know because these are the decade-old posts that I was served this August.
As the day progresses, we meet the professional rugby player whom Roxy is dating, and then return to the sprawling house we’re renting in Umhlanga. It turns out that, oh ja! It’s the final of the 2010 Fifa World Cup in South Africa, between Spain and the Netherlands.
So that is the final batch of pics I am presented with by my friend Facebook. Some snaps of our crew enjoying beers with the models, and the surfers and the rugby stars, in a mansion after just shooting a TV commercial, at the climax of the World Cup in South Africa.
As we used to say at the time, “Philip, it is here!”
As I was admiring those FB memories, I was in my lounge alone, typing. I had a bit of toothache, which would soon require dental surgery. I had barely left my flat for the past five months.
It would have been easy to say that Facebook was taunting me, pointing out how great my life used to be. But as I observe the expression on my youthful face in those decade-old pics, I look stressed.
I look like a guy who is having an incredibly busy day, and is glad to be getting through it without any major stuff-ups. By the end, watching football with the models, I look relieved and ready for bed.
It’s nostalgic to be reminded of these experiences, these snaps from pauses at lay-byes on our journey. They evoke memories of things we’ve done, but also of the people we used to be.
The guy at the Umhlanga Wavepark is not the same guy in quarantine with a toothache. But they are nodding acquaintances. The current me certainly owes a lot to the Wavepark me.
But what would I say to that Hagen? Cheer up, appreciate what you have? Be grateful?
No, I don’t think that’s what I’d say. I remember well enough that the time of the wave park was a time of much stress. But one piece of advice I would have is simply this…
Experience your life. Live it, but let it penetrate your soul, complete with all its joys, pain and difficulty. Let it leave a mark. Savour your life. Like food, roll it around on your tongue. Taste it before swallowing.
Because at least then it will leave a trace, a memory. Otherwise, photos will be all you have. What we really want is the memories.
Hagen Engler. Picture: Supplied
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