I gave a Tuesday Club talk today. I’d been back at school last night too to listen to Dave Waters’ last ever concert.
It’s weird to be back. Nothing seems to have changed at all. Same hallways, personalities, different faces. It makes me wonder how much things changed while I was there, or before I arrived. That period of my life that was at the time so significant to me – how significant was it, in the grand scheme of things? There was a Jack Hodkinson before me and there will be a Jack Hodkinson after, too. I am not special.
For that matter, I’m sure that the same logic applies to my life at Corpus now, or really to anything that anybody ever does.
Teachers that I never knew, or that never liked me, or that I never liked, are suddenly interested in shaking hands and niceties. “How is it [at uni/out there]?” over and over again, but never do we ever progress to talking about real thoughts or feelings because there’s always something to rush to.
I’m not really sure how it makes me feel. Small and insignificant, yes, but somehow I’m also interesting (merely because I’ve aged a little bit since I was last at school).
Will things still be the same in 5 or 10 years? Probably. Again, new faces, but the same conversations. What can I learn from this? That it’s OK to tread water? Surely not, since if I look back in 5 years at myself and feel that I’ve been treading water, I’ll be mortified.
So what? Maybe the answer is to never look back, but to plough forward. However, I suspect that’s what everybody back at school is doing.
I only have a limited amount of time on this planet, and it’d be a shame if I didn’t make the most of it.
I think the answer is to never rush. To move forward, but always relish every aspect of the present. Then at least the journey, if not the destination, will have been worthwhile.