Reunion and connection

Last weekend, I attended my 40th high school reunion. It was a blast! Seeing some people for the first time in 25-40 years was quite something. The most notable thing was how we fell into the “knowing” of each other with very little hesitation (even if we didn’t recognize each other at first!) I had a few very heartfelt conversations with some people. Of course, we spoke about where we were living, how many kids we had, and where they were attending college, but there were also conversations about how we remember ourselves from when we were young teens, and in some cases, we talked about things that we would not have dared to talk to each other about at that age. The cliques that defined us so long ago in high school had softened their hard edges. While we grew up in the same era and went to the same school, our student body spanned the vast expanse of cultural, economic, and experiential diversity that NYC is known for. 40 years after Ed Koch delivered our graduation commencement speech, we were happy to join together under the larger banner of Bronx Science Graduates, regardless of our current and long-ago differences.
Following the reunion, I attended a conference on the Second Look legislation that is seeking support to pass the bill in the senate. The attendees and presenters were all involved and passionate about seeking social justice for elderly incarcerated people, which is what this bill proposes. In addition to their passion, the presenters and speakers allowed vulnerability to shine through as they spoke from their hearts.
Interestingly, but perhaps not surprisingly, I felt as connected to this group of “strangers” as I did to my classmates. It was a beautiful reminder that what connects us is not just shared memories and experiences. We can connect just by being open, by speaking from the heart, and by curbing our habit of intentionally excluding.
How amazing would it be to feel this connection always? You may believe as I do that we play just as much a part in the dance of separation as the others we feel are excluding us. When we can observe our walls going up, and our need to define roles as uncertainty morphs into fear of some sort, when we allow ourselves to see that, we can also choose to change it. It takes observation, courage, and practice to show up this way, but when we are passionate about healing the wounds of separation, we will find the motivation to drop the walls and drop the illusion and find the beauty and solace in connection.