Sunday, May 16, 1999. Somewhere over Arkansas near the Mississippi River - Delta Flight 349, on my way to Dallas, a stop on my destination of Oakland. Another Green Key weekend done. Two former classmates, '85 & '87 returned for a sorority reunion. They were aware that I was back on campus - this time as a respectable administrator. It was hard for them to grasp that I was not the same undergrad that exhibited, on occasion, indiscretions of youth. We reminisced about the days gone by. "What about him? You know the guy who almost died from alcohol poisoning. And what about that other guy who was so full of himself. He thought he could romance any woman on campus, only to have never actually kissed one."
We laughed at their expense because it made us feel better about ourselves and our station in life. In order not to seem overly spiteful and petty, we rattled off the accomplishments of some of our more accomplished peers. "I heard he was a sports attorney representing several athletes in baseball, basketball and football." "He married her. She's a neurological surgeon."
Inevitably, when you start down the path of comparing lives, you must turn to your own. Ultimately, we turn on ourselves. "So, I can't believe you're doing what you do. I mean, look at you. You are so accomplished. I remember when we were sophomores. You were shady and scandalous. How did you turn out to be so good?"
It is an awkward question for me because it seems bizarre. Bizarre because in my mind, it is the natural progression of life if one is so inclined to accept, seek and pursue growth and change. Many of us do well along our life's journey if we can escape personal interaction with people who represent the awkward growth stages of our lives. It is because often they do not allow us to be more than their relative experience. To do so would take them out of their comfort zone and force them to face their own growth pattern or lack thereof. It is the fear of the lack that comes from comparing your life's accomplishments to another's that locks us in stagnation and keeps us from our personal growth and evolution.
Many times, we resort to the same characterization of how people remember us when we encounter them. We do not want to go to the trouble of confronting them and ourselves with our growth. Why is it so hard to say, "No, I don't do that anymore." Instead, we appease them for the few hours we are with them.
We should rage against complacency of satisfying someone else's need to feel good about themselves by weighing their good fortune against ours and reminding us of our improprieties of years gone by. If we are diplomatic enough, we may respond, "Yeah, I remember that and it was most unfortunate. Here's what I learned from that and as a result this is how my life has changed for the best."
It would cause pause for thought - for each to contemplate his/her own past experiences of poor judgement relative to their personal growth over the years.
Chicken and vegetables. Airplane food isn't so bad sometimes. An after dinner drink, Bloody Mary. The heart of the matter is growth and change. People either invite it or rage against it. Accept the excitement of working to become someone they can look in the mirror and say to themselves "I like you," or reject it and hide in denial of the inevitable - wasting time fighting it. Inventing ways to hold on, even to the virtues and ideals of the past that are worth keeping. Even those concepts of personal growth worth keeping and that transcend the years must evolve to fit the changing times.
Is that part of the struggle against the residential and social life initiative? The fear of change and growth? In part, the answer is yes. Yes because fear is phase one of the natural process of growth and change. Phase two is assessment of whether or not we are moving in the right direction of change and growth.
Eyes resting but not asleep. I drift back to 8:45 this morning. A night earlier, a visiting alumnus invited my to fly his airplane. A Cessna, four-seater, the cockpit and entire cabin area is smaller than the passenger space in my Pathfinder. My natural reaction was, "Yes! Most definitely, I would like to fly the plane." After dinner, on the ride home, I thought about actually doing it. In bed, I pondered canceling. 'What if we crash? What if I get sick?" "I've flown in small planes before and I didn't like it." "This plane is tiny," I concluded without having seen it. "What was I thinking when I agreed to fly."
I taxi down the runway and the alum takes us up. Once we level off, with his instruction, I take over the controls and become the pilot. We glide at 3,000 feet, push in the handles, dip the nose and descend, pull back and raise the nose slightly, ascending higher into a cloudless sky. Bank right and left at 30 degrees, soar over campus, down the Connecticut, 360-degree and head for the landing.
A life changing experience. One of the best moments of my life. How much time wasted worrying, anticipating the worst when I should have been hopeful for the best.
The beauty of living everyday is waking up with a chance to recreate ourselves.
