Amy and I met when we were in high school together, probably sometime in 1983. We started dating and fell in love in 1986 and then spent most of the next four years apart as we pursued our separate (but deeply intertwined) paths through college. The distance forced us to stay in touch through the U.S. Postal Service. We didn't have email accounts, the web didn't exist, and phone calls were expensive--the old Ma Bell had just been broken up, and we had to call each other after 11:00pm, when long-distance rates were more affordable on our tight budgets.
So we wrote letters--hundreds of letters. Somehow, 30 years later, we still have them, and Amy proposed that we re-read them over the holidays, a major undertaking that we just completed. It was an overwhelming experience, in the best sense of the word, and we found much to laugh about, much to be grateful for, many surprises, and plenty of heartbreak and sadness. My first reaction is simply thankfulness that we're still here. There were many times during those tumultuous years when that outcome seemed highly unlikely.
And my second reaction is thankfulness for the work that I do today and my life as a coach and teacher. I had many strong passions as a young man and launched myself on a number of potential paths with vigor, only to find my enthusiasm fade after a few years. From my vantage point today, not only do I feel a sense of pride in what I accomplished on those ventures, I also realize that the lessons I learned along the way contributed immensely to my ability to be of service to my clients and students now.
But in college, during the period covered by the letters we just read, I went from a checkered (albeit very entertaining) freshman year at Duke to two years at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston (chosen for its proximity to Dartmouth, which Amy was attending), followed by two more years at Brown (where I finally got my shit together.) I'm deeply grateful for those experiences--and to my parents, who certainly had their doubts, but who remained supportive and encouraging along the way. And yet at the time I often felt like I was wandering.
So it's deeply rewarding to look back at those uncertain years and know that the path I ultimately chose has been a calling, a true vocation. That's not to say that the last 12 years have always been easy or fun--I've struggled many times, and I know I'll face difficult moments in the future. But I feel so privileged to do this work, to live this life, to be able to say: I'm not lost, I'm here.
Photo by dvs.
