Buenas tardes por Murcia,
La semana ha volado, pero creo que lo mismo podría decirse de las tres semanas aproximadamente que he pasado en Europa. Powrót do miejsc, w których już byłem, a także odkrywanie nowych miejsc w różnych krajach lub w obrębie tego samego miasta pozwala mi rozwijać moją perspektywę, ponieważ zmienia się moje zrozumienie ludzi i siebie samego. Og selvfølgelig, selvom hvert sted har ensartethed, har der været ændringer. Men de mest tydelige ændringer er i menneskerne og hvordan de er vokset, modnet, og hvordan jeg er kommet videre i deres liv. If you have not given up on reading by now, I will summarize in English.
The last week has flown by, but I can say the same for my entire time in Europe. Returning to places I have been before and discovering new places in different countries or within the same city allows me to develop my perspective as my understanding of people and myself and the changes. And of course, while each place has its own uniqueness, and consistency, there have been changes. But the most obvious changes are in the people and how they have grown, matured, and moved on in their lives. From high school to college, from instructor to being mom or engaged, to growing and working toward the goal of happiness, from being a student to bringing students, and now traveling retired, we are living our lives and painting our own pictures. Undoubtedly, we find that process to be different, not only from the other, but more often than not as something divergent, unpredictable from what we expected, perhaps even unrelated to what we hoped.
There have been numerous times when I have pondered the actuality of life to what I imagined it would be. As a mid-Boomer, I bought in whole-heartedly to the quintessential America dream: the house, the spouse, the 2 1/2 kids, a dog. Most my age know this expectation. It was what you did. Now, some half century later, I have no house, which was a choice – I sold it, no wife, which in two cases was their choice, no children, which is what happened, and no animals, though there were some along the way. So what does that mean? It must mean something different than simply not achieving because often I hear from former colleagues, classmates, or friends and read from posts on my timeline or comments on other social media that people are envious, sometimes jealous. So what makes one’s dream a reality? Do I have a dream life?
I do not consider myself any standard bearer of any sort that is for sure, be that as a paragon of either success or failure. I would not wish some aspects of my life on anyone else, and then there are opportunities and experiences that set me apart from many others. I am well aware of that. It is only recently that I have been able to articulate what I believe is central to what has happened to me, where I have been, or what I (or others) might believe count as accomplishments. Recently during a conversation with my former exchange son, as I fondly refer to him, I noted that life will confront us from time to time with substantive choices. Generally, we are unsure of which choice we should make, of which proverbial path to follow. As I look back at those points for me retrospectively, seldom were they part of some grander plan I had in mind. In fact, what I know now is I seldom had any grandiose idea of who I was or where I might (should) go.
As I reach the place that one calls me a septuagenarian, I am keenly aware that most of my life is a life of consequence. This means whatever choices made were simply they were made in the moment. As I have grown older, I think I ponder options and consequences more carefully, there is not the impulsiveness that characterized my earlier life. What is more likely now is the choice is made with more intentionality, but also with less wondering about what is I made a different choice. As I told Anton, regardless the choice, move forward doing it the best you can. Do whatever you do well. I think my father’s directive about average finds its way into my life practice once again. Too often we walk through our lives as if they are some deterministic continuation of events; we’re merely little more than the feather (remember Forrest Gump ) blown along by the breeze. Many with whom I intersect, interact, noted that retirement would be different, and they are correct. There is a freedom of schedule I have never known, but there are still decisions, possibilities, and things to imagine. I retired at the same age as my father. I think he would have worked even longer if it were not for my mother’s failing health. I do believe I worked as long as I believed I would be effective, and I did not want to be the person who should have retired a year earlier.
And yet it is fair to ask what makes life meaningful? What makes it feel like it matters to more than myself? During this week in Murcia, I have been blessed to meet yet another incredible person, an engineer, a mother, and someone who is beyond insightful. In fact, she reminds me of a former colleague at Stout. Their ability to see through, to perceive, to intuit are like nothing I have ever experienced or anyone I have ever met. Between intelligence, empathy, and goodness, my life was made better. Even beyond all the people I have blessed to encounter, I still question how I might still make a significant difference for the other. It is easy to settle for less, to be lured into acceptance of something that is simply adequate. The title of this post might imply just such a path, but nothing could be farther from the truth.
Too often we are pushed to see life for something that requires more, something that somehow demands either we move beyond or live within the boundaries others decide, the normal as it is often defined. The great majority of my former students believed they were required, expected, demanded to attend college. When I told my first week freshmen this was not true, the shock they often exhibited was readily apparent. When I told them average would leave them unemployed, they often believed me to be harsh. By the fundamental reality of being societal, we buy into so many things. And yet, Doc Holiday (one of the best acting jobs of the late Val Kilmer) notes in some of his last earthly words, “there’s just life,” one should argue that this complex dentist/gambler/gunslinger/friend dies unapologetically. In spite of his difficult death from the consequences of tuberculosis, he had few regrets. His friendship to Wyatt Earp had no bounds, and he was genuine, regardless the circumstance.
As I get ready to return back to the States, once again my experiences have added complexity to my world and how I understand my place and path. The majority of things done over the last three weeks involved familiar places, familiar people, with a couple additions in both categories: a more complete view of two cities and an important addition in a couple places – some new faces and even a couple countries (Iraq, Germany). I remember a former student referring to me as a jet setter because of my travel. That travel is not about jetting off anywhere; for me it is life, just life. It is another way to learn, to appreciate, to comprehend. It is what life is. As I shared this morning, I do not have any difficulty with the person who does not know. Where I find a difficulty is when someone believes it is not necessary to know, a willful ignorance of something. So much like Doc Holiday, for me my life has been unexpected much of the time; it is been eventful and surprising at times, but all in all, it is what it is because “there’s just life.”
As always, thanks for reading.
Michael
thewritingprofessor55 