Graduation

My youngest son is finishing his senior year of high school this week.  The interesting thing about it is that it’s making him anxious—not about leaving the past behind and everything he’s known so far or about going to college but rather about whether he’s going to be able to support himself after he’s done with college.  Try as I might to tell him that he doesn’t need to worry about something so far in the future, he is still concerned.

He comes by it honestly.  I do the same thing.  I worry about stuff I have no control over and what’s going to happen in the future.  Maybe that’s why I’m a planner.  I think if I can plan things, I have some semblance of control over them.  But throw me a curve ball, and I have a really difficult time switching from what I expected would happen to what actually is going to happen.

One of my daughters has no problem with this.  She doesn’t really worry about things that do or don’t happen.  She is much better going with the flow of life and doesn’t seem concerned about whether she’ll find a job or a place to live, and yet everything seems to work out.  She trusts much better than I do.  It’s really remarkable.  But because she’s not a planner, when things don’t go right, she is genuinely upset and doesn’t really have a game plan for solving the problem.  That’s when she calls to ask me for advice.  In fact, it’s not uncommon for her to call me and for me to answer, “What’s the matter?”  But still, it really is unnecessary to worry about things that may or may not happen.

Thinking about graduation, I realize that in some ways all the big things that happen to us in life are a kind of graduation: a marriage, a new job, moving to a different city, having children, a divorce, the death of people close to us.  In some way, big life events force us to move from one stage of life to another.  By doing so, we are given the opportunity to gain a new perspective and learn something about ourselves and our lives.  For example, my son’s graduation technically makes me an empty nester, even though he’ll probably be living at home for the next couple of years while he attends junior college.

So what does that mean for me?  Now that my children are all grown and technically no longer need me.  How do I now define myself and who I am?  I don’t have people who are depending on me to make sure they eat and go to bed on time. I really have no say in how their lives will turn out.  Sure, I can give them advice, but most of the time, they don’t ask for it or even want it.

As I dig deeper into these thoughts and feelings, I think maybe every day is a kind of graduation.  Every day we are presented with challenges that test us and our character.  Who we are depends on how we react and the decisions we make.  We can choose to be happy and have a good day, or we can choose to blame life’s circumstances for why we are unhappy.  We can learn from our mistakes and move on, or we can choose to make them again until we are ready to learn whatever it is we need to learn.

As we graduate from one day to the next, let us be thankful for all that we have and all the goodness that life has to offer. Let us throw our hats in the air and not worry about where they might fall or whether we will be able to recover them.  Moving forward, it’s not important whether our heads are covered but rather how we keep putting one foot in front of the other so that we can keep progressing on our life path.

Joke:  Principals like graduation.  It’s one of the few days of the year when students can’t wait to take their hats off.

Quote:  “Your life is your adventure.  An the adventure ahead of you is a journey to fulfill your own purpose and potential.”   — Kerry Washington

Advice:  Consider each new day an adventure that allows you to learn more about who you are and why you are here.