Reunion Reflections

Today I flew to Newark en route to my 30th Princeton reunion.   On the plane I sat across from a man from the class of '57.  How did I know this?  He was wearing a black and orange blazer with little '57 emblems all over it, and an orange sweater underneath.  I can hardly wait to see what my class's "uniform" for this reunion will be - registration starts in a couple hours so I won't have to wait long!  Here are some of my classmates in our 25th reunion jacket:  

 

So during the flight I read Oprah magazine and the June issue is all about aging.  More than a dozen women aged 13 to 64 provide their reflections on aging, emphasizing the joys of their current age, no matter the number.  An essay by novelist Jane Smiley was particularly enjoyable and thought-provoking for me.  She starts by describing a train ride in the UK where the passengers all appear to be decades younger than she, and while she suspects that they regard her simply as an uninteresting older woman ready to retire, in fact her mind is "full of memories that are as real to me as the present:  I am 64, but also 40, 35, and 26."  (Why she assumes that negative judgment from her co-passengers could be a topic for another post!)

As I fetched my rental car and drove the hour or so to campus, serenaded by the local public radio jazz station, I related directly to Ms. Smiley's reflection, accessing my own memories of Princeton - at 18 and arriving for my freshman year from Fargo, ND; at 21 and graduating triumphantly; in my 40's and traveling to Princeton several times for business (staying at the iconic Nassau Inn and eating much better than I did as a student!); and of course my reunion trips - at 41 for my 20th, at 46 when I brought my sons to my 25th, and now at 51 for my 30th.  And the best part is that the memories don't just stand alone - I have more ability to see them in context, to perceive patterns and derive meaning, to have more compassion for the self that I was at all of those times and that I am now, and to joyfully anticipate reuniting with friends over the next few days.

Ms. Smiley goes on to share that a woman older than she once told her that when she turned 35, her "life would change from a river to a lake, shifting from a constant forward flow to a wider exploration."  I love that image and think that it contains great wisdom.  It made me imagine that the condition of and our experience of our lake might vary depending on our situation and present ability to deal with it.  In hard times it might feel as if our lake is suddenly full of whitecaps and we're struggling to stay afloat.  At other times we may feel that we're treading water doggedly, or perhaps floating or bobbing more lightheartedly, even blissfully.  When we are in a period of exciting transition or progress, it may feel as if we're slalom water skiing, leaning in and creating a gorgeous spray.

We are always connected to our past and anticipating our future, yet of course all we have is the present moment, which slips continually into the past.  We do well when we productively integrate our past and mindfully experience our now, opening and connecting both inwardly and outwardly.  And of course we are not alone - we profoundly affect and are profoundly affected by the people and places and situations around us all the time, too.   Everyone and everything affects our "lake" and vice versa.  Whether I am interacting with family, friends, colleagues, clients, or even people-watching as I've been doing in this funky coffee shop over the past couple of hours, I am awed and humbled to consider each one's uniquely complex history, current consciousness, and potential.  I am grateful for this moment, I am grateful for connection (it's my word for 2014 in fact – for more info, click this Gretchen Rubin link: http://tinyurl.com/jvus59o), and I can't wait to see my old roommates and friends tonight!