Dès vu
You life, right now, is becoming a memory
Better Short is an experiment in less than 500-word expressions of ideas or stories within Could Be Worse.
Over the last five years I’ve spent in Thailand, I can’t help but feel this weird mix of gratitude and nostalgia. When I’m watching the sun melt into the sea at Koh Phangan or staring out over Bangkok’s skyline from my balcony, this sad happiness sits next to me.
It's awe-inspiring on the one hand. But there’s an undercurrent of disembodiment—like I’m already mourning the moment before it’s even passed. There’s a future version of me who is pining for these sunsets sitting with the present me. Watching the sky turn orange, I can already see it happening. This fantastic sunset - gone.
It’s like time’s constantly erasing these moments right in front of me.
I never noticed this much until I moved to Thailand.
Are we all destined to live in one specific place on this Earth, where things finally click?
Thailand feels like that place for me.
In 2020, N and I accidentally found ourselves at this intersection—our age, the period in our lives, Thailand, in these times—and something shifted. Something deeper than feeling calmer or more assured. Something about Thailand—the people, the rhythm—changed me.
Since I’ve been here, a few things have happened:
I started giving a crap about my health and worked on it sincerely.
I stopped getting sick (probably because of the whole "taking care of myself" thing).
I became happier and less anxious.
I stopped comparing myself to everyone and just started living my own life.
Maybe it’s not fair to bestow all the glory on the place. As I said, age, the period of our lives, etc., may have played a role too. Whatever it is, I appreciate this temporal bubble of bliss.
But alongside this bliss (and maybe because of it) is this strange feeling of longing for the present from the future. Even while fully immersed in beauty, I’m already missing it. Beneath it lies the knowledge that everything passes, even the good stuff.
This life, these moments—they’re all just ticking away.
Matsuo Bashō, one of the great poets from the Edo period:
Even in Kyoto—
Hearing the cuckoo’s cry—
I long for Kyoto.
It’s the ultimate paradox: living in the moment while simultaneously mourning its loss. The older we get, the more we feel this. The happier we are, the more we sense that bittersweet undercurrent, that reminder that everything is temporary.
We’re all just time travellers, stuck in this relentless current, watching beautiful moments float by, knowing they’ll never stop. We can try to capture them, pin them down into memory, but even then, we’re haunted by all the ones that slipped away.
Another Basho gem:
First day of spring—
I keep thinking about
the end of autumn.
There’s even a word for this in French: dès vu.
Unlike its flashy cousin déjà vu, dès vu is the awareness that what you’re living right now is going to become a memory. It’s the future sneaking into the present, reminding you that this moment, too, will soon be something you look back on.
The Japanese have a term for it as well: mono no aware.
It’s that bittersweet realization that everything is fleeting—that beauty and joy are tied up with impermanence. And yet, it’s this impermanence that makes everything so goddamn meaningful in the first place.
Language is beautiful.
Addendum (so I escape the 500 word limit)
Are there good poems/phrases in Tamizh that capture this? I tried looking up but could not find anything that perfectly fits the profile. Are there any experts who know?
Also, this collection of poems on impermanence comes close. It doesn’t quite capture the vibe I am seeking, though. It isn’t about death but the fleetingness of good moments/experiences.
Better Short,
Tyag
This was a lovely, poignant post - exactly like the moment it describes. :)
That view of the sunset is gorgeous! You're lucky to be exactly where you want to be :)