Makes sense.

Is this always the case?

Our general tendency to recall positive memories over negative ones is especially pronounced when we feel discomfort in the present. That’s because the process of recalling the past is always dictated by “the perspective that we’re coming in with and the questions we’re asking about the past,” Dr. Wilson said. She called this our “current lens.”

Your current lens acts as a kind of filter, determining what details you dredge up and what you make of them. Living amid a deadly pandemic and the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression, we’re all primed with some degree of collective nostalgia as a baseline. “If we start out with the hypothesis that things were better in the past, then we’ll pull out memories to confirm that,” Dr. Wilson said.

Part of this has to do with what researchers call “mood repair” — doing what we can to lift ourselves up when we’re feeling down. “Memory isn’t just there to help us remem- ber where the car is parked,” Dr. de Brigard said. “It also plays other roles, and one of them is to help us feel better.”

None of this is incidental — autobiographical memory has evolved this way for good reason.

In her research, Dr. Wilson found that we manipulate our personal memories to create a coherent identity and favorable sense of self over time.

This may mean embellishing our memories with imaginative elements, or omitting details we’d rather not dwell on. “We know that memory and imagination interact enormously,” Dr. de Brigard said. “We often imagine ways in which the past could’ve happened. Then our imagination penetrates the original memory and modifies the content.”

While the malleable quality of our memory makes it vulnerable to manipulation, and er- ror, it’s also a real adaptation of the human mind. “Recalling past positive events is an adaptive way to regulate emotion in the present and enhance optimism about the future,” Dr. Schacter said.

In fact, Dr. Schacter’s research has shown that, on both neural and cognitive levels, the same regions of the brain come online when we remember the past as when we imagine the future.

It makes sense. To plan for the future, we have to look to the past. In less-than-ideal times, we may recruit positive memories in order to envision the future with greater hope, motivation and resilience.

No, chatting by the water cooler with colleagues may not have felt that extraordinary at the time. But glorifying experiences like these in our current moment may actually serve a purpose. Who among us doesn’t need a boost these days?

OK. But what about memories I know are great?

Just because memories can change when we reconstruct them doesn’t necessarily mean all of them have changed significantly. But it does mean that they are still all shaped by various cognitive processes, including those meaningful moments, like holiday gatherings or trips.

We’ve all felt it: The family vacation was full of arguments, sunburns and hangovers, but somehow you remember only the quality time, gorgeous weather and delicious meals.

In 1994, two psychology researchers, Terence Mitchell and Leigh Thompson, sought to offer and test a theoretical model for this phenomenon, which they called “rosy retrospection.” In their paper, Dr. Mitchell and Dr. Thompson explained rosy retrospection as one of three ways our mind creates the effect of “rose-colored glasses.” First is rosy projection — the “great, positive anticipation” that often leads to “overblown expectations,” said Dr. Thompson, a professor at Northwestern’s Kellogg School of Management.

Second, the researchers said, is the “dampening” of pleasure in the present: “We are hard-wired to give negative stimuli a lot more cognitive attention in the present,” Dr. Thompson said. But these details “disappear by the wayside in our memories.” The result? Rosy retrospection: recalling the past more fondly than we experienced it at the time.

Multiple studies document rosy retrospection in action. A 1992 study found that visitors to Disneyland reported significantly more positive recollections of their trips than the details they reported during the trips themselves (like crying children or long lines).

In 1997, Dr. Mitchell and Dr. Thompson found similar results when they put their theory of rosy retrospection to work, examining participants’ anticipation of, experiences in and recollections of a trip to Europe, a Thanksgiving vacation and a three-week cycling trip in California. Across the board, reported recollections were far more positive than experiences recorded in the present.

Put simply, we’ll always grab onto the details that confirm our current lens (“What a great vacation that was!”) and stitch together our memories accordingly.

“Part of this is driven by self-enhancement: ‘I want to think of myself as a lucky, fortunate, probably somewhat talented, capable person,’” said Dr. Thompson. “We construct a story after the fact and selectively choose the things that were romantic.”

So, what’s the problem?

There is no glaring problem with romanticizing the past. As long as we’re aware how memory works, we can keep ourselves accountable, try to learn from the past and live more fully in the present.

But particularly during challenging moments of life, there are real benefits to taking a step back from whatever is going on in the present.

“We have the ability to get some space from our own experiences, which can be really useful for helping us think about them more objectively,” said Ethan Kross, a psychologist and the director of the University of Michigan Emotion and Self-Control Laboratory.

Dr. Kross has dedicated much of his research to studying what he’s called “self-distancing” — “the ability to step outside yourself and view yourself from a more distanced perspective, similar to how we might think of another person.”

He added: “There are lots of ways you can gain distance from your experiences. The act of thinking about the past is one way.”

Looking back at the past, romanticized or not, “allows us to get a broader sense of perspective, which can help people make sense of their experience,” he said.

A 2015 study found that “temporal distancing” (or, thinking about ourselves in the past or future) enhances our ability to cope with negative events by helping us realize their impermanence: “This too shall pass,” an idea we’re better prepared to believe when we see the proverbial bigger picture.

Self-distancing has also been shown to reduce anxiety and depression, support self-reflection, and improve decision-making and emotion regulation, among other benefits.

Spending time with glorified memories in particular may also have additional benefits.

“Nostalgia is an important psychological resource,” Dr. Wilson said. “People can dip into the past, especially when the present is not sustaining them.”

A lot of research backs this up. Reaching for nos- talgia has been shown to counteract loneliness and boredom. Research by Xinyue Zhou of Sun Yat-Sen University in southern China has shown that nostalgia not only has psychological benefits, but potentially also physiological ones. In a 2012 study, Dr. Zhou found that people experienced nostalgia more readily on cold days or in cold rooms; in addition, participants who engaged with nostalgic memories reported feeling warmer.

If nostalgia “warms” not only our hearts but also our bodies in the face of difficult conditions, then thinking fondly about the past may have evolutionary utility beyond emotional comfort.

The question, then, isn’t how do we appreciate the past less — but how do we learn to appreciate the present more?

What can I do to appreciate my day-to-day more, even now?

Consider what you’ll be nostalgic for: Because of the pandemic, we now have evidence that we get nostalgic about even the most boring aspects of life. So, flip your mind’s own logic on its head, and consider what elements of your present situation, however dull and repetitive, you’ll reminisce about once all this is over.

Maybe it’s the bread you learned to make — and the ritual of making it. Perhaps it’s spending more time at home with your children. Allow yourself to really notice the details about these experiences in order to give more texture to your future memories. “Try to become nostalgic for the present,” Dr. de Brigard said. “Help your future self by making the present more memorable. Embellish the dullness.”

It may help to snap a few photos and make your seemingly mundane moments into memories worth keeping and revisiting. By thinking about your present experience in terms of its memory-potential, you may even find yourself paying more attention to the rosier moments rather than those “dampening” distractions. “I guarantee you won’t photograph your dog who keeps soiling the carpet, but you will photograph the perfect croque-madame that you have perfected during lockdown,” Dr. Thompson said.

Put the present in context: It seems as if everywhere we look, we’re told to “be present.” It’s valid advice: Doing things like meditating or going for a walk can help us connect more directly to our experience and let go of mental chatter.

But immersing ourselves in the present isn’t the only way to appreciate life more. In fact, embracing our capacity to think about the past and future can help us develop a healthier perspective and find more meaning in the present.

“We’re constantly trying to make meaning out of our experiences, and our mind is flexibly constructed to help us do so,” Dr. Kross said. “I wouldn’t want to give up this ability to go back in time to make sense of what I’m experiencing and then create a story that propels me forward.”

So, take a step back from the nitty-gritty details of your life right now and consider how this period might fit into your “life story.” It will feel cliché, but giving yourself a bit of distance from the day-to-day will help you see yourself more clearly — and with greater compassion. Imagine yourself in the future thinking back on this time. What’s the story you will tell? What did you learn? How did you grow?

Finally, make a treat out of what you used to take for granted: Before the pandemic, we gathered with friends, went to bars, saw live music and didn’t think anything of it. Now, you might notice yourself savoring small pleasures a bit more, especially if those things weren’t available during the earlier months of the pandemic.

It’s not a coincidence: Studies have shown that when we have less, we savor more. “It’s an economic principle,” said Jordi Quoidbach, a psychologist and an associate professor of people management and organization at the Escuela Superior de Administración y Dirección de Empresas in Spain. “What is rare tends to be cherished more than what is readily available.”

Even when life returns to normal and the simple pleasure of eating out at a restaurant, for example, becomes available, we can “deprive ourselves of the overabundance of pleasure,” Dr. Quoidbach said. “To prolong the excitement of going back to restaurants even when life gets back to normal, we can make it a treat and decide actively that we’re not going to eat out three times a week, but make Thursday a special night, or even the third Thursday of every month.”

When all else fails, consider the fact that this period of time, like any other, will be susceptible to the infinite distortions of memory. Your hair may be gray and your anxiety may be through the roof, but you can imagine the story you’ll rewrite when it comes time to romanticize the past once again.