Yesterday I spent the day driving to and from school to attend the annual awards lunch. I was recognized for graduating "with honors." I suppose I should be proud, but it felt really strange not to have "high honors." I was a "high honors" student until the last class period of my last full time semester in school, when the professor didn't like my final assignment and gave it an "F," which lowered my grade from A- to B+, which lowered my gpa to 3.89. I was a 3.90+ student for seven years. C'est la vie.

Then I received a Biblical Interpretation award. Five of those were given. I didn't even know all of the other recipients. Again, it is better to receive that award than not to, but it was disappointing for me that it was the only award I got this year. Oh well. I said I was finishing seminary with a whimper rather than a shout, so it is fitting.

The truth is it just didn't feel that good to be there yesterday. As soon as the event ended I left. I've moved on. That place just isn't about me anymore. I'll attend the dinner tomorrow night and graduation on Saturday, and I'll leave with no regrets and very little grief. It is over and that is okay.

Impermanence

It is probably not a good idea to write a blog post in the middle of the night, but I'm up and I'm here, so here goes.

Impermanence has become a wonderful friend to me. Things that used to grasp at me no longer have such a firm grip. Now I can have more open conversations with them.

"Hello friend book. I remember choosing you at the bookstore and the friend who recommended you. I remember reading you and being changed by you. Perhaps I no longer need you here to help me remember. It may be time for you to be chosen by another and read by another. Be free to bless another life, my friend."

When spoken to kindly like that many of my so-called possessions are relieved of their fervent grip on me. They relax and smile, perhaps for the first time in a very long time. I hadn't noticed the pained look they had adopted from hanging on so tightly. Letting things go is truly a joy.

My years in seminary are among the best years of my life. I have wonderful memories of those people in that place. But, even memories can grasp too tightly for too long. It is time for me to invite those memories to fade, to mellow, and to become something beautiful again. Those moments were right for that time, but clinging too tightly to them will only turn them into a painful loss. Why not set them free?

I can choose to move through this week's graduation events living in the present moment rather than in the past. I can experience them for what they are. There is no need to infuse them with tears that express loss or endings. There is no need to thrust unrealistic expectations upon them.

Life is lived in the present moment. This present moment includes a cat getting a drink, a thunderstorm rumbling outside, a version of myself writing a blog post at a keyboard while another version of myself gets a bit of relief from asthma by sitting up.

The present moment is always full of life, bursting with sights, sounds, tastes, scents, textures, and feelings. Now is only made richer by releasing my grip on yesterday and tomorrow. Or, as Jesus said, "let the day's own troubles be sufficient for the day."
Mary