Month: August 2022

Fifty-five years is a long time. Could any of us in the Class of ’67 have imagined that 55 years later we would be gathering to reflect, tell stories, mourn those who passed, talk about our families, and marvel at the years gone by?

My high school class was typical of a small rural midwestern town. Everyone knew everyone. Secrets were well hidden. Cliques existed but we interacted with everyone. Many of us had been classmates since kindergarten.

I have gone to every class reunion since we started having them in 5-year increments. I am a reunion junkie. I make them a priority. I keep up regularly with a few classmates. The Facebook connections have helped maintain additional contacts.

The capable and caring event planner for many of the class reunions over the years is my good friend, Nancy. For this reunion, she put together posters of some of the highlights from previous reunions. Several observations were evident to me.

Change over the years reflected typical life stages. Not much had changed after the first five years except people who had gone to college had graduated and everyone was starting their careers whether as teachers or as farmers.

Twenty years marked the celebration of parenting and people feeling successful in their chosen occupations. The pride folks had of their grandchildren and maturation of their work endeavors was evident at the 40-year mark. This year’s reunion marked retirement for most people, but also suggested the inevitability of mortality.

From a graduating class of 40+, eight people are gone including three who passed since the last reunion. We honored their memories. I fear that we will venerate more of our peers in the coming years.

I am lucky because my parents lived into their 90s. This class reunion, however, was the first one without my mom. She was our 6^th grade Science teacher so knew many of my classmates as well as had been friends with their parents. I missed not spending the day after the reunion telling her all about the reunion activities and the conversations I had.

Regardless of the years, most people have similar personalities as in high school. We evolve over time, but high school leaves a permanent imprint.  Those quiet folks remain that way. The leaders during high school stand out. Although most times I am not concerned about my appearance, I felt I was thrown back to high school as I perseverated over what to wear to the reunion. I felt like a teenager going to the homecoming dance as my 17-year-old’s anxiety emerged.

I wish we had more time to visit at the reunion. I want to know what brings people joy today. I want to know how they have been resilient over the years. I am grateful, however, for 55 years of knowing these people. It will never be enough.

Idleness is not my strong suit. Retirement is a time for people to kick back and relax. If that is the case, I have failed miserably in retirement. The truth is that I have never been much for slowing down or doing nothing. I get over-scheduled, but I would not want it any other way. Voluntarily slowing down isn’t in my genes.

I recently read an article in The Atlantic by Arthur C. Brooks titled “How to Embrace Doing Nothing.” He described how hard doing nothing is for many people.  I find it hard to sit still unless I am doing something. I grew up a family with a strong work ethic and watched my mom and dad take little time for leisure.

My lack of understanding of my parents’ leisure ethic was what intrigued me to study leisure throughout my academic career. Although “doing nothing” can be leisure, it has never worked well as a definition for me. I like to think of leisure as something that is positive and active. I like days that I have little scheduled with fully the opportunity to do nothing. However, it never really ends up that way as I fill my day with activities I want to do.

For many years I have pondered the quote from the Sound of Music that Captain Von Trapp said to Maria, “Activity suggests a life filled with purpose.” I like to think that my volunteer and outdoor activities during retirement are filled with meaning, and I strive to assure that case.

I am envious of people who relish doing nothing as part of their daily routines. Brooks notes that learning to do nothing is good for people. Letting the mind wander during unstructured tasks can make us better at creative problem-solving. Unconscious thought can produce original ideas.

The key, as is true with all of life, is balance—to know when to do something and when to take some time off. The secret may be to find equilibrium between activity and idleness where neither is neglected. Although I doubt I will ever enjoy white space in my life, my friends on our Cotswold Walk reminded me of the words of William Henry Davies, “A poor life this if…We have no time to stand and stare.”

TIMING is important, perhaps essential, in life. I appreciate the verse from Ecclesiastes 3:1: “For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.”

The challenge is to recognize timing. The good things that happen to me are a result of appropriate timing—being in the right place at the right time. When the timing is off, either things don’t happen, or they may not have positive outcomes.

One morning this week as I was working on this blog, I looked up from my computer to see the rosy bright alpenglow on the Continental Divide. As I watched and wondered, it disappeared as quickly. I caught it at just the right time!

The Bible verse gives a conclusion about timing and includes more description. People in my generation, however, also are aware of the verses based on the popular song, Turn, Turn, Turn written by Pete Seger in 1959 and recorded by The Bryds in 1965.

A time to be born, a time to die

A time to plant, a time to reap

A time to kill, a time to heal

A time to laugh, a time to weep…

A time to dance, a time to mourn…

A time of love, a time of hate

A time of war, a time of peace…

A time to gain, a time to lose…

A time for love, a time for hate

A time for peace, I swear it’s not too late…

I am grateful for good timing during my life. The timing was good in 1974 when I had the opportunity to spend 6 months in Turkey with experiences that changed my world view forever.

It was perfect timing for me to be able to leave the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill and spend the last 10 years of my career at NC State.

The timing was mostly right to retire so that I could pursue my second career of hiking and volunteering in the park. I loved my professional work but wanted to move to new opportunities while I was still at the top of my game, and while I was still energetic and healthy.

Although the timing is never right when someone passes, I am glad that my mother left this world before the COVID pandemic. She would have been unhappy in those quarantine circumstances. Although I would give anything to have her back, her passing enabled me to use my inheritance to do good things that I will see in my lifetime.

One never knows for sure if timing is right. Sometimes I don’t know if the timing has been wrong or missed, but I continue to learn lessons that help me appreciate the purpose of every season.

“Did you see the tractor yet?” Dad asked as I wandered into his shop to say hello. “Over here,” as I stepped over tools and tractor parts scattered across the floor. Dad’s hobby in retirement was restoring antique tractors and he had enough projects to last him well through the next century.

“This was my dad’s new tractor. It’s a John Deere H. I drove it home from Coggon over 60 years ago. I was a high school senior. It was brand new.”

I suspected this was the first and only new tractor dad had ever driven. He never bought anything new but reveled in his ability to make something old run and look like new. He was in the process of putting the two-cylinder tractor back into working order as well as painting the parts with the John Deere green. Mom was helping by painting the wheels yellow as they originally were.

“Do you remember your grandpa’s tractor?”

“Oh yes.” Grandpa came out to the farm everyday when I was little. I was never sure what he did, but he puttered around helping and always drove that tractor when they were baling hay.

Scratching his head, dad reflected, “My dad always loved that tractor. I can’t wait to get it up and running again.”

“What are you going to do with it?” I asked.

“I’m going to drive it in the parade for Harvest Home.” Harvest Home is the local event held every summer in our small town. It traditionally includes a parade, a carnival, and a livestock show. The parade usually had antique tractors refurbished by his buddies in the local “Two-Cylinder Club.” Restoring old machinery seemed to be common hobby of retired farmers.

Dad didn’t say much more to me as he rummaged through a tray of bolts. I watched him for a bit and envisioned him driving down the streets of Coggon later this summer. With his bald head and graying sideburns, he would be a contrast from the blond haired 16-year-old who had driven that tractor home to the farm 60 years ago. I imagined, however, that there would be no less pride in his heart than there had been years ago when he took his first spin with the “H.”

This month marks the 8^th anniversary of my dad’s passing. I love to recall conversations we had over the years and especially this one on an early summer afternoon in 2000. I never see a green John Deere without thinking about my dad and his love for old tractors.

Every morning when not rushing off, I turn on the Weather Channel. I am intrigued by the weather especially from growing up on a farm and learning how our livelihood depended on optimal weather conditions. I turn the TV on so I can see what the weather is like at the homes of my friends and family in places such as Iowa, Oklahoma, Missouri, California, Texas, and North Carolina.

Climate change is making my fascination for weather greater. People are experiencing more fierce and frequent major weather events these days no matter where they live.

Growing up in Iowa, the main worry was tornadoes and hailstorms. Even though my parents were wary, they made sure us kids were safe by having a plan for going to the basement in the event of bad storms. I ran down there far more often than needed, but it made me feel better even though I worried about the rest of the family that was not necessarily joining me.

An anomaly of Iowa was the derecho that hit in 2020. Most people had never heard of such phenomena before that severe windstorm happened. I am glad I didn’t worry about that growing up.

North Carolina was notorious for hurricanes. I didn’t live on the coast, but I experienced the effects of hurricanes as they came inland with the dousing rain and intense winds. I will not forget the night that Hurricane Fran roared through the Raleigh-Durham area. I had never experienced such unrelenting winds.

When I moved to Colorado, my concerns with hurricanes and tornados were over. However, I had not considered the growing potential for forest fires year around. Mostly the rain is never cursed because it mitigates fire danger. Fires used to occur only in the fall, but they are possible any time.

Chances of experiencing the catastrophic weather events that now occur has changed. According to the US Geological Survey, a 100-year flood does not mean it happens only once in 100 years but that there is a 1 in 100 chance of an event of this magnitude occurring during any given year. The probability is increasing.

Scientists have proven these natural disasters are exacerbated by human-caused climate change. The events should more aptly be named climate disasters. The seven warmest years in the 1880-2020 records have all occurred since 2014 and these global temperature changes are creating extreme and frequent severe weather.

Although nature creates these climate disasters, nature can also heal the earth. I must live with daily weather, but to prevent climate disasters is a daunting challenge. It will take individuals, government entities, and citizens of the world caring enough to address the changing climate to mitigate dramatic weather events into the future.