I was just in San Francisco, near where I was born and spent most of my formative years. And while I’ve gone to and through that city numerous times over decades living elsewhere, seeing it once again fills my heart. Every. Single. Time. On repeat.
I’ll never tire of admiring the Golden Gate Bridge or riding a cable car. My husband and kids have heard me wonder, ad nauseum, why other cities did not manage to recognize bay windows as the best of all possible architectural features, ideal for light and window seats and all manner of wonderfulness.
On a blue-sky vacation day, no matter where I’ve traveled, I’m eager to explore new neighborhoods, discover new sights and sounds, taste new tastes. But I love revisiting old favorites again, and again, and again. Like a child’s insistence on the umpteenth re-read of a favorite story or re-play of a familiar video, it’s pure joy to re-experience something you treasure. It affirms a connection between past and future. It awakens the inner child.
Repeatability is magic.
We may not spend our childhoods totting up lists of the things that bring us joy. We just eat the same foods, cuddle the same well-loved companions, savor the same stories over and over. As adults, we recognize comforting flavors and seasonal likes; we continue along well-trod pathways to enjoyment, seeking reliable pleasures to enhance our everyday lives.
Repeats are not the boring same-olds we make them out to be.
As a children’s author, I spend a fair bit of time thinking about repeatability - words that are fun to say time after time; fun to hear again and again; fun to remember; I try to deliver the kinds of feels kids will want to experience more than once. But it’s not just the youngest among us who appreciate the ability to return to a good thing.
Sure, we may surround ourselves with too much of a such a thing. I’ve heard enough people claim to be “over” once-favorited experiences after returning too soon, laden with too-high expectations. Like the bedtime book that needs to get lost behind the shelf for a while, or the well-loved shirt likely better appreciated if it wasn’t worn day after day after day, it’s wise to keep from overindulging the things we savor.
Good timing and pacing apply as much to the stuff of life as they do to story. We’ll extend the welcome of our most comforting repeatables by giving them space and returning to them thoughtfully.
I would certainly admire the tulip fields all over again each April, but I don’t need to. Some things are comfortably repeated in photos and memories. Then again, it’s fun to renew the joys of massed color and bloom every few years, with a different crowd, an alternate mode of transport (bikes instead of gridlock), the effect of time.
It heightens the impact of repeat to change it up, just a little. Reimagining something beloved can renew its magic.
When I combine someplace familiar with someplace I’ve never been in my travels, I mix the joy of remembered experience with the magic of discovery, finding new repeatable itineraries for next time. When I try well-loved flavors in different preparations, it feels both like exploration and coming home.
Repurposing mementos can bring new vitality to old treasures. Things long overlooked might be worthy of notice in new forms. Collaging old pictures or reframing crafts might be more satisfying than simply revisiting them. Sharing a special book or remembered moment with someone new can reawaken us to why we loved it in the first place.
Affinity for repeatability doesn’t mean that we stop crossing bridges to acknowledge, explore, and befriend the new. It’s crucial to continue learning, growing, and discovering along our ways. But as an elderly relative recently reminded me, “Make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver, and the other’s gold!”
When I consider my possessions, my travel, the choices that consume my time, I'm asking, will it spark joy again? The best things do.
Here’s the next naturally magic repeat I’m anticipating:
What are your most repeatable places, things, books, foods, songs, treasures?
And what’s the magic you find in them?
I love this! My family has vacationed at Priest Lake, Idaho almost every year since I was born and the place is pure magic just because of all the memories and the yearly anticipation. Like you write about, the magic is in the repetition.
I love SF as well...the bay windows, the bay, the bridges, the antique and modern transit mashup...and I love wearing a favorite shirt multiple times a week, to the chagrin of my wife. Nice to see some of "me" making it into the Magic.