looking back leaning forward part two

OK..so really an elementary school reunion needs a bit more discussion.  So let me set the stage. I left a cold wet dreary Denver and landed in a bright warm happy place. The hotel room was not ready....but I did not care. The tide was out, the sun was shining and the ocean was calling. So I had lots of time and many miles to think about the reunion.

I had a bit of information about people's lives, but was fascinated by the thought of seeing everyone. We all had compound stories and myths, adventures and challenges, tragedies and triumphs. I actually could connect some of the pictures from the past with the faces on Facebook. 
And some of the careers with some of my memories. But we had all moved in unique directions. What would we talk about?

The reunion was at a beautiful house in Calabasas. The instructions were for nice casual, which in LA means anything from jeans to jewels. And we all fit into that category. I recognized the faces and the names came back and the stories seemed to weave together. How interesting that our early years seemed align so well with our present, and perhaps our future. We shared laughter and tears and wove our tales together over wine.

The people were lovely, as was the night. And while I realized that any painful memories of the past did not really matter in that way one might think, the past did come into clear focus. It felt like a kaleidoscope had been turned into several beautiful new patterns.  

The patterns shifted. Being on the outside of a group, or at least feeling that I was, made me understand better the dynamics of the outsider. 

Being a lone wolf back then made me a more resilient now. Looking in from the outside made me more compassionate. And...as the song says...being chosen last for basketball made me courageous enough to crave adventure. Not fitting in set me free.

I came home and worked on my art...capturing the nature of Mezuzahs with fiber. OK...that was a leap. But seeing that I was not tied to a old story made me willing to continually write a new one. Mezuzahs? A Jewish cocoon holding a scroll that tells us the secret to becoming a spiritual butterfly. Artist? why not try?

So thank you classmates from my past. You held up mirrors for me to discover myself. You helped me find myself in ways that I could not have done alone. Perhaps we have to dance together, like mezuzahs and doorposts, our past and our present, to find our deepest spiritual truths. Or at least our own path.