Day Nineteen

DAY NINETEEN
High School, what it means 10+ years later 
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I attended High School at South Tama County High in the town of Tama, Iowa. I never went to my high school reunions, I was poor about keeping in touch with my old classmates, and it was a chapter in my life much like Tuesday is a day on the calendar. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that that’s not true. In Day Six I talked about Inspiration and I have to say, a lot of who I am today is because of all the experiences I have had in my life, many of them at South Tama. Only recently have I reacquainted myself with former classmates and former graduates of STC, but my life has been enriched by the friendships we’ve rekindled and fostered over the past few years. It’s about commonality; it’s about a shared experience; it’s about home. Obviously, the stronger the bond you have with someone, the greater the ability you have to connect with them and the deeper your words will penetrate, whether those words are meant to heal or harm. My entire purpose for this book, as I’ve stated before, is to create a global community of healthful, constantly contagiously happy people, and for this vision to spread, like wildfire, to every person, young and old. So, clearly I rely on those I have a stronger bond with to help see this mission accomplished.

Today I’d like to talk a little bit about High School, and not to alienate those of you in High School, I want to take a trip back…

It’s probably just me, but I never really “belonged,” properly, to any one group or clique. Surely this is what both made my relationships with others most rewarding and also most awkward. I was an athlete, I was in theater, I started the Chess Club, I was in Gifted and Talented (we called it A.L.M.), I pretty much had a small or medium role in every “group” that our school had. Now to those who belonged exclusively to one group, this created the tension, and I, at least at that point in my life, never avoided tension, but rather found myself on the instigating end of it. For this, I wish to apologize to Scott Pansegrau, Jim Townsend, Michael Bradley, Christian Bisher, and a few others whose names slip my grasp. Guys: yes we were all fellow athletes, and yes you all were very good at the respective things you did, but I failed to appropriately clarify my role in our group and as such, I was clearly misunderstood, both by you, but also by myself. No worries, no hard feelings, we’re all cool now. Such is the benefit of time. I’m sorry I made life awkward for us, but alas, that is what High School is sometimes for—there’s always one in every crowd, and I was the one—in every crowd.

It’s been well over 10 years and I can easily remember the names of those few gents as if I’m recalling the names of old war buddies and the experiences we shared. That, dear readers, is true inspiration. I’m of the belief that High School is not so much about learning, per se, as it is about learning who you are. And like a lot of courses we take in college, or at least some of the ones I did, it doesn’t make sense until about 5 years later. So for those of you in High School now: hang in there. Be who you are; change for no one; you’ll love yourself more when you are older.

For those of you who didn’t attend STC, which will be a great number of you, this won’t make any sense, but allow me a moment to diverge and I’ll return to my point presently…let’s see how good my recollection is. Here I’m pulling from my inspiration (apologies friends, but some of these are embarrassing and too good not to share. If any of my stories cause offense, please let me know and I’ll include the more embarrassing ones):

Ian Mallory: I cannot, and will never forget the time you drove fifteen miles north of town to TP my house. It was such an honor, and having never lived “in town” it never happened, and for you, a fellow thespian and not athlete made it brilliant. And that, Ian, is what makes me smile every time. You successfully ninja-style toilet papered my house and in your nimble getaway you literally clothes lined yourself on our clothes line! I’m laughing out loud just recalling it. I remember you came to school the next day with your arm in a sling and I laughed because I knew before you said anything what had happened. Ian, you rock and you will forever live as one of my dearest friends. I could always count on you for that little bit extra.

Travis Mullen: First of all, thank you for suggesting that I write about High School. At first, I was a little hesitant because I was unsure how to tie it in to everything, but once I got going, it made perfect sense. I remember one time when we were detasseling, under the supervision of Coach Plantz, and you asked out loud what time it was. I, not wearing a watch, shouted out what time I thought it was and then obnoxiously began counting the seconds out loud. Soon after, someone with a watch confirmed that I was right. You turned and looked at me, and I’ll never forget the look on your face, you thought I was psychic. Pure, complete, dumb luck. But it was funny and it made us forget about how hot it was. Today, I’m very grateful for some of the conversations we have had about Life, The Universe, and Everything (shout out to Douglas Adams intentional) and I must say, I knew in High School that you were a mental giant, but I am incredibly impressed with your command of argument, intellect, and conversation. You make every dialogue interesting, worthwhile, and incredibly entertaining, so much gratitude for that.

Mrs. Barclay (Melissa): I, well, I can barely tell this story because it’s so funny and I’m not sure if you even remember it. I remember this time in Chemistry, junior year, we were all taking a test and you either didn’t know the test had started or you thought it was open book. Our instructor, search me, I cannot remember her name, came up to you and said, “Melissa, what are you doing?” Deer in headlights. She basically accused you of cheating. You, clearly panicking, said, “is this a problem?” pointing to your notes. It was such a brilliant and completely unexpected answer, that despite the panic in your voice, she surely realized that she hadn’t made something clear and simply said, “it’s closed book.” People say it’s not what you say it’s how you say it. Well, you defied that completely. It was clearly what you said. It was so perfectly unexpected and terrifically honest that I think everyone chuckled inside. And in the end, it didn’t matter anyway because everyone but Amy got a C or D and she created a second exam. To you: you are brilliant on your feet. I’ve been a huge fan of your very upbeat and positive outlook that you’ve shared online. You make being positive and happy good company. Thank you.

One more so as not to make private a conversation open to all…

Gary Zmolek, (Mr. Z): Z, so completely randomly will things you told me so many years ago wiggle their way into my mind and finally make sense. I have never, in all my life, met anyone who embodies all the virtues and wisdom that you are so amazingly fortunate to possess. There is no way that anything you told me when I was years younger would have made sense then, but I am immensely grateful that I understand it now. I’ll be eating lunch, enjoying my day, having a conversation and then BAM—epiphany. Your words seep into my mind and I receive temporary enlightenment. I love how any time anyone ever talked about anything you would always have a book that that reminded you of. Voracious is a gross understatement if one were to use it to describe your reading habits. Anytime I find myself directing another to a book I always think of you and smile. I don’t have to go into how many lives you touched and how many people have blossomed under your tutelage; all I have to say is you are one of a kind. The world is a much better place because you are in it and little pieces of you are in so many of us. I personally owe you my deepest and most sincere appreciation for everything you did for me and the entire ALM program. If any of us can affect the world, even in a fraction of the way you did, what a wonderful world it will be. Gratitude dear Sage.

Thank you for allowing that tangent, I’m smiling and crying. That, friends, is truly what High School is about. It’s about who you are. Today, I am a puzzle of pieces of everyone I’ve met. I’m the culmination of my past experiences combined with the undeniable evolution we all experience as we age and mature. I’ve said in other writings that our pasts don’t define us. This is true. We define ourselves. Perhaps that’s why I’m finally understanding what everyone has meant to me: because I define myself as pieces of all of you.

Today’s task: High School is just a starting point; what I’ve learned today is that understanding the connections we have with others is key to understanding the connection we have with ourselves. How do we view ourselves? How does the world view us? And as in the examples above, how do we view others? Today, take pause, reflect on your friendships, reflect on yourself, and if you don’t smile, we need to talk. (Quick note: yes, those of you I went to High School with, you knew me, let's say, differently named, but I'm still the same, well similar, guy that you knew).

As always, all my love, all my best. Seek not peace, but find it in your heart and it will seek you.