How a Reunion Can Reunite You With Yourself

re·un·ion

[ree-yoon-yuh n]

 noun

1. the act of uniting again.
2. the state of being united again.
3. a gathering of relatives, friends, or associates at regular intervals or after separation

Last Saturday I went to my 25th high school reunion. (Yes, I'm that old. Stop snickering.)

When you go to these things, it's natural, of course, to ask your classmates about what they've been up to since you last saw each other. Which made me reminisce about what I was doing 25 years ago.

{Behold my '80s hair in all its glory.}

It was my senior year and I was busy being a well-rounded student.  Between AP classes, sports and maintaining really big hair I had my hands full. I had always been part of student government, but rather than go for a class officer position I interviewed for a coveted student body post: Activities Director. Sounds good, right? Not exactly.

Even my high school adviser knew something I didn't — that event planning wasn't my thing (and truth be told, never would be... but that's for another blog post). Instead, I was gently persuaded to be the Publicity Chairperson.  I wouldn't be planning the activities (that was left to my uber organized, detail-oriented friend, N.) but instead I would be writing about them. Promoting them.  Telling stories about them. In fact, my adviser thought I'd be perfect for this role because she felt I had a natural writing style that would easily lend itself to the prerequisite teen column published weekly in our area's local rag.

Hmm... a weekly column?  With my own byline? Where I could express myself? Cool! I accepted the gig and happily went along my way.

{One of my teen columns from the Tri-Valley Herald, circa 1986}

Each week I'd make the early-morning drive to hand deliver my typewritten columns (remember, this was 1986) and a few days later I would beam with published pride.

Funny how going to a reunion can reunite you with yourself.

As I chatted with my high school friends about what was next for me, I mentioned this blog and how I was thinking of (finally!) trying this writing thing. 

• M.J. loved the idea and thought it could be my own version of Eat, Pray Love (minus Julia Roberts — she hates Julia Roberts). 
• T. said that he remembered me as a girl who could do anything and to just go for it. 
• And (female) T. remarked on my amazing, positive energy — particularly when I was speaking about this project — and said it made her (someone who already has a lot of energy) feel electric.

Instead of leaving the reunion feeling like an unemployed loser, I came away even more determined to be true to my mantra and "make it so."

So allow me to say it publicly for the first time: I was, and am, a writer. 

It just took me 25 years to acknowledge it.  Thanks for the reminder, CHS '86. 

:-)

It's A Process: After the Before, But Still Before the After

Have you ever had a crazy dream and looked up its symbology online? Or is that only me?

Anyway, one of the most common elements of my dreams, especially during times of change, is a house.  And according to dream dictionaries, a house always represents you, and its condition is very telling of how you are feeling at the time.

So it should come as no surprise, then, when my husband casually mentioned that my house tweaking verve was symbolic of my own desire to makeover my life, myself and what was next for me.

"You're working through the creative process, Aim," he told me.

Funny that I never made that conscious correlation but he was actually spot on.

Here I was envisioning a brand new kitchen (the heart of the home, aka me), with a bright freshness.  Sure, the bones stayed the same, but the outward appearance and how it was presenting itself would be more in line with the real me and my tastes. It was slowly being transformed into something even better.

{Before. Note the '80s-chic, heavily-grained oak cabinets. Nice, no?}

{During. Note 7-year-old whirling dervish in left corner.}

{Still during. Note non-7-year-old whirling dervish in left corner.}

Hmmm....interesting.

What I find more astonishing is how this transformative process has bled into other areas of my "house" — the adjacent "rooms" are following suit, getting their own facelifts and upgrades, receiving the much-needed love and attention they deserve.  And in doing so, every part of my house will (eventually) be acknowledged, integrated and unified.

Of course this process can't — and won't — happen overnight, despite my enthusiastic fervor and my desire to make it so.  I fully admit upfront that along the way some decisions will seem perfect at the time only to later be found to be not quite right.

But that's okay, because there's always room for growth and change.  And "home" renovation is a never-ending process.