Alma Mater

In a case of intriguing timing, just at the moment when I am grappling with previously unrecognized emotions over having not been a mother, my alma mater (Smith College) is about to hold its graduation/reunion weekend. "Alma Mater" literally means kind mother, and Smith was kind to me. I am eternally thankful that I made that choice, that I received scholarships to make my education there possible, that I had fabulous courses and musical training, a great house, and that I made excellent friends. It was a safe place for me during a particularly hard time for my family, and even though I think it was more my mother's choice than mine (most of her friends were Smith graduates; she had attended two-year college), I am proud to be an alum. This is my 40th reunion, and I should be going.

I guess the short reason that I am not going is that I had promised myself that the next time I attended, I would have some tangible achievement to present. Smith knows my "old story" all too well; I lived it while I was there, they've heard about it at a few reunions, and in a sense I have never broken out of it. I want to be able to go back and say, look at the book I published or the dream fully realized or the late love of my life, the respect I'm garnering in such-and-such field, or the money I've earned and can share with the school. I still believe these things will happen, and for years I've been "faking it till you make it," but my energy for getting out "ahead of my skis" is lagging. It worked when I was 40 and 50, but not so well at 60 (!) Plus, I just did that to some degree on my trip to New York. To be in the presence of many hundreds of brilliant, white-clad, high-achieving Smithies just might be too much for the tender place I'm in right now. I know it will be a beautiful, blessing-filled event. I'll make a commitment to attend our 50th, no matter what life brings these next ten years.

Thank goodness, again, for Martha Beck, whose daily words of inspiration today seemed to hit home: "What should you do now? Find a new way. A better way. Your way. The unknown, uncharted path through this wild new world that allows you--yourself in your uniqueness--to reclaim the full measure of your true nature." That's pretty much what I've been doing all along, walking uncharted paths. I suspect that this is about as "tangible" as we mystics manage to get!