Wisdom Of The Ages & Megadosing Nostalgia

Reflecting On Anniversaries, Reunions & A Good Life

Celebrating The One Percent

This past weekend I attended the 60th wedding anniversary of family friends, the patriarch and matriarch of a dairy farm in operation for over a century across three generations. It was a lively affair with over a hundred attendees including infants and octogenarians occupying a local high school gym. Seeing multiple generations come together in one space was quite the experience, like an intergenerational kaleidoscope. The eldest son emceeing the evening mentioned less than 1% of all marriages last 60 years.

An aerial view of the celebrated family’s farm.

.Witnessing decades of time updating old memories in an instant, I saw middle-aged neighbors turn elderly, some of the neighbors’ children that babysat us becoming middle-aged and youngsters I remember as children now in their 20s and 30s with lives and families of their own. 

I also noticed the absence of some no longer with us. 

Watching the husband’s reaction (it was a surprise party) and the couple’s first dance to a granddaughter’s live performance of Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling In Love” were some of the evening’s notable highlights.

I also managed to gather stories and memories about my father. One granddaughter of the honored couple I had only met that evening told me that my dad helped her learn to read when she was little, along with her fond recollection of gorging blueberries at the family farm. Another story involved a culinary disaster on my dad’s 50th birthday party after the triumph of skydiving into his own party. The whole hog he was cooking Kalua style didn’t turn out, a grisly and disappointing embarrassment.

Watching a video of a granddaughter interviewing the couple about their life and marriage was a hilarious fusion of Silent Generation wisdom with Gen Z humor. Also remarkable was watching precious video footage and photography of their early days on the farm from the ‘60’s and ‘70s playing on the projector screen in the background as a backdrop to the evening.

As two of the wisest people I know and a great example of lives well-lived, one epiphany I took away was the limited utility and potential irrelevance of self-knowledge to living a really good life and the simple power of commitment. 

That was not the only epiphany I had that evening.

Part Deux

Ducking out of the evening early despite enjoying myself, I proceeded to my 22nd high school reunion at a nearby pub. Why 22 years? 2021 was still in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic and gatherings were still recovering.

I see both arguments about whether or not to attend a high school reunion as I deliberated throughout the week. I imagine it brings up mixed feelings as it did for me and other classmates I spoke with. Ultimately, I erred on the side of curiosity as I figured one night out of a decade is a sufficient risk to take. Besides, one can always go home early.

My graduating class - Maple Ridge Secondary 2001

What I appreciate about these two events is the perspective of time and witnessing decades of life play out in the snapshot of a single evening. It also gave me pause to reflect on life choices and paths not taken.

With about 30-40 people attending out of a graduating class of over 100, I was struck with a peculiarly strong feeling of nostalgia and appreciation for everyone there. There's a word I learned in my undergrad Chinese history class, guanxi, that approximates ‘fellowship’ though I've also heard it used in the context of network or social capital. Translation nuances notwithstanding, I recall the professor mentioning that simply by virtue of having graduated together we shared guanxi. I found it curious that even classmates I did not associate with during high school I felt some measure of appreciation and affinity for. This seemed reciprocated in turn. 

Ponderings

After making and refining my spiel for the nth time about what I’ve been up to over the past 20 years as I made the rounds, I noticed my mind whirring in comparison. I began noticing the ways and speech patterns in which I presented myself in a favorable light. And while perhaps that’s natural, it also revealed an internal judge that holds us up to our own ideals that we may not even be consciously aware of, falling short of or missing the mark entirely. 

What I realized is that by contrast with my peers, my lifestyle is quite peculiar. Many had families and more established careers. In contrast, I’m not conventionally successful. Though comfortable, I may not have much net worth to speak of. I may not have a particularly high-paying job. I may not have started my own family. 

And yet it's been a great life. 

I've seen the world. I’ve had adventures. I've attained some measure of mastery over my body, mind and music. I've had a lot of free time to think (though perhaps too much at times). I have great friends, a community and a good relationship with my family. I enjoy my work, workplace and genuinely respect my colleagues who inspire me. Mentoring younger generations doing my best to pass on my musical knowledge (without attachment) to those willing to listen and practice is meaningful.

I'm playing a different game than most, and that’s okay. Indeed, each of us is playing out our own game of life, regardless of how much that aligns with societal standards.

As an introspective and parting thought, I observe this as a paradox of human cultures, that despite being predominantly social animals dependent upon cooperation, we benefit tremendously from individual contributions, as history attests. It would seem therefore that a healthy society promotes healthy individuation as a proper aim despite the inevitable trade-offs made for the common good. The somewhat nebulous term authenticity points towards this.

May you live a life full of connection surrounded by a community that cultivates and celebrates your authentic self-expression.

Or, as Louise would say on the importance of community, “grow where you’re planted.”

Much love and gratitude to the Severinskis and the Maple Ridge Secondary Class of 2001. 

I salute you.