Lately, we inevitably encounter the phrase "In the old days" at some point in our conversations.

"People used to be more respectful in the old days."

"There used to be neighborliness in the old days."

"Holidays used to have a different flavor in the old days."

These sentences are not merely nostalgic. They are actually an expression of a social mood. Today, saying "in the old days" often expresses a sense of insecurity about the present rather than glorifying the past. Indeed, sometimes memories can feel more secure than the present.

From a sociological perspective, this situation can be described as "the language of the age of uncertainty." When individuals cannot predict the future and find no foothold in the present, they turn to the past, to their memory, the only place they know and can control. The past poses no threat because it cannot be changed. The present, however, is lived with the feeling that it could change at any moment, that it could become worse at any moment. That is why "in the old days" ceases to be a mere expression of time and becomes a word of refuge.

As a society, we have been living with a sense of instability for a long time. Economic concerns, social insecurity, questions about institutions, the fragility of relationships... All of these can make the present exhausting and the future worrisome. The human mind, to protect itself, turns to the past, which it sees as a safer harbor.

However, there is one noteworthy point. Were the times idealized as "the old days" truly flawless? No. There was poverty, injustice and suffering. But unlike today, people had a clearer sense of where life was headed. Structures such as family, neighborhood, tradition and faith gave individuals a sense of belonging. Today, the problem is not just that conditions have become more difficult, but that bonds of meaning have weakened.

From a spiritual perspective, there is a loss of time that was once of great value. Holidays, evening meals, family visits, Fridays for Muslims and Sundays for Christians. These were not just calendar events, but moments that paused the soul. Now, time flows; it does not stop, it does not rest. When this happens, the individual retreats to the only place they can pause, their memories. Remembering those memories sometimes turns into a state of mourning. A mourning for a lost rhythm of life, a form of relationship, a sense of security... But this mourning often goes unnoticed, since nostalgia wears a romantic mask. Yet, beneath these words lies a deep resentment: "This life no longer feels familiar to me."

There is also a danger here. Constantly retreating into the past can turn into completely abandoning the present. Society cannot repair the present simply by talking about or idealizing the past, as this may lead to shirking responsibility for the current moment. It is easy to cling to the past, but creating a better present requires real effort.

The real question is: Do we long for the past or for a sense of security?

If it is security that we long for, then we must rebuild that security not only in our memories but also in today's relationships, institutions and values. This is precisely where religion and spirituality come into play. Because these phenomena are effective in the effort to make the present meaningful, as opposed to sanctifying the past by remembering it.

As the 12th-century Muslim scholar and mystic Ibn al-Arabi points out, if time gains meaning through the state one is in, what makes the past so valuable is that the state experienced at that time felt more secure and consistent compared to today. "In the old days” statements tell us this: People still want to hold on. They still remember, they still compare, they still have a standard. This is not entirely a negative situation. The real danger is becoming so numb that you can no longer compare anything.

Perhaps what we need to do is rethink the "present" while preserving the boundaries of remembering the past. Memories can guide us, but life is not built solely on them. The real need is to try to rebuild the present with the meaning we derive from the past. If remembering the past is a necessity, then repairing the present is a responsibility. Nourished by meaning in religious and spiritual terms, and by awareness and resilience in psychological terms, this state makes difficult times bearable and reparable.

And perhaps then, the words "the old days" will cease to be an escape or a refuge and become simply a calm word used for remembering. When meaning, trust and consistency can be rebuilt today, people feel less need to cling to the past. As our sentences begin to draw nourishment from the present, the "old days" will no longer knock on our door so often.