I found a sliver of time in my calendar to sneak up to my hometown to spend a few days with my mom and dad. Just me. No grandkids to contend with; I get all the spoiling.
It has been lovely.
Each morning I have walked with my mom and some of her friends—three septuagenarians and octogenarian—and we cover the entire perimeter of the town in forty-five minutes. This morning we culminated our walk together with a visit to the grand opening of the new cafe in town. A good friend of mine from high school joined, and we enjoyed fresh, plump, frosted cinnamon rolls with our coffee while waving happily to every patron who entered.
Small Town USA at its best.
The cafe is decorated with memorabilia that tells a story of the county’s history through high school sports paraphernalia adorned walls. As with small towns all across the country, communities in this area have for decades dealt with dwindling enrollment that brings difficult decisions. School boards and stakeholders discuss how many school buildings can be supported, what is realistic as far as continued maintenance and upkeep costs, what is needed to support the vital busing routes that traverse many many miles on gravel and county roads, and on and on. The core of all these questions and conversations is the same:
Who are we? What is our identity?
We humans deal with identity questions constantly, whether consciously or subconsciously. These identity questions are arguably some of the toughest we face. Who am I? What defines me? What gives me purpose? To what community(ies) do I belong? How do I show up as my most true self in this world?
One thing I love about my hometown’s new cozy cafe is how it highlights the beauty of change. Displaying so many seasons—and all of the people who experienced those various seasons—offers space for people to reflect and remember. The space not only a does great job of honoring all of the classes of students who went to school in three neighboring towns, but by showcasing posters and photos of the several different school mascots and color schemes that have been proudly touted across generations, it recognizes that things indeed change, are always changing, and—wait for it—that change is normal, inevitable, and often very good.
So as I have had the privilege of taking many walks down Memory Lane this week, my encouragement is to take some time to reflect on how well (or maybe sometimes not so well) you manage change. Consider some questions and challenge yourself to spend some time formulating some answers.
How do I honor my past while progressing forward?
How do I honor the past without clinging to it?
How do I prepare for and handle change?
What kind of growth have I noticed in my life?
In what seasons did the most growth occur?
What are areas I would love to grow in now?
It is fine—and fun!—to reminisce on good times, to think about and share stories about the past, as long as we do not stay stuck there. Keep walking!
