Thirty years ago, I carefully monitored my bank account (by calling the bank for the balance). Today, I search the landscape for the exhilaration associated with spotting a moose.
Twenty years ago, I wondered whether or not I would spend the rest of my life alone. Today, it’s coffee and breakfast for two.
Forty plus years ago, I eagerly anticipated completing the requirements for my bachelor’s degree. This morning, I accepted the request to substitute in sixth grade for the last week of classes.
Twenty-five years ago, I hoped that my children would grow up to be responsible, intelligent adults. Today, I continue to be amazed at their brilliance and compassion.
Because change is inevitable, our responsibility as adults is to understand the best methods for embracing and enjoying change. That’s not to say that our pasts are worthy of being forgotten. We can’t measure how much of our present is because of its contrast to the past. But we can evaluate how much we’ve learned from our memories and how that learning facilitates our ability to celebrate the present.
As I educate those who are assembling memories for later reference, I am acutely aware of the impact that we have on those young minds. Long ago, I learned never to say something that I would like to take back. My hope is that those who have heard my words for as long as I have had something to say have benefited from those words.
Someone close to me remarked recently that I was probably not as equipped to teach immediately after college as I am now. That occurs to me frequently, emphasizing how critical it is to be intentional about what we do and say.
In the past, I had a reputation for speaking my mind, no matter where or when. Now I have succeeded in being appreciated for what I say, probably because of the differences between then and now. Shalom.