20/20

It was my 20th high school reunion this weekend.

I will admit, that I did not want to go. There were over 600 people in my graduating class, and I didn't know half of them in high school, let alone trying to remember them 20 years later. I recognized few of the 175 names on the RSVP list. My friend Natalie was anxious to go, but I tarried sending in my check. I was curious, and I thought I might regret it if I didn't go. I'm trying to say more yeses than no's these days.

Natalie looked gorgeous, as she always does, but I was full of apprehension as we approached the door of the venue. The first person we ran into was our class president, who took one look at me and said, "My god, you look exactly the same...but better." That, my friends, was the right answer.

Now, there were plenty of people there I didn't know, and a few awkward moments. There were conversations that petered out almost as quickly as they started, but the ones that lasted were tangibly warm, as though I could literally see the lines of connection strong between us. We all marveled at how good everyone looked. There were no stereotypical paunchy, bald men, and the women were svelte and pretty. Indeed, for the most part, we all looked the same...but better. We reminisced, we cooed at baby pictures of children, we grieved for those of us who are ill, or no longer with us.

Afterwards, there was an outpouring on Facebook from attendees who were so delighted, moved, and fulfilled by the evening. I am loath to admit that this had me confused. I had a nice time, but my heart was not filled or emptied, my soul was not aroused or impassioned. I enjoyed the evening as I would enjoy a nice meal or a good day at work. Fine, but not life changing. I couldn't help but wonder if I had a hardened heart, or why my normally sentimental self was feeling anything but.

And then it hit me--during the course of the evening, I was told more than once how happy I seemed. If I am to be honest, I truly am happy. I didn't need a nostalgic trip to make me feel something palpable when my life right now is already wholly lived. This 20 year reunion coincided with a reunion with friends met in Morocco who happened to be in New York, and that evening was more full, alive, vibrant and soul touching to me. The past can stay in the past, my peace is with it and I wish it, as well as my 18 year old self, well. My 38 year old self, on the other hand, is proudly, proudly living out loud.

They say that hindsight is 20/20, but I am amazed and rather tickled to realize that my eyes see everything in this moment, crystal clear. Anais Nin said, "We don't see things as they are, we see things as we are." Yes, oh yes, we do.