I took a deep breath to help settle the butterflies in my stomach as I walked into the party
I graduated from Sir Charles Tupper Secondary School in Vancouver in 1974. Our 50th high school reunion was held this past November, 2024
I took a deep breath to help settle the butterflies in my stomach as I walked into the party. I could not deny the rapid passage of time when I saw the large sign in scarlet, gold, and black letters, “50 Year Class Reunion Tupper 74.” I was handed a goodie bag with the Tupper Tiger mascot on all of the keepsakes.
A glance at name tags helped me place a name to a face. I noticed other classmates peeking at my name tag. I guess I have also changed.
I graduated from Sir Charles Tupper Secondary School in Vancouver in 1974. Our 50th high school reunion was held this past November, 2024.
This surreal evening went by fast, our cell phone cameras capturing the fleeting moments. A common denominator in our group was a sense of gratitude to have made it this far. The emotional undercurrent was how precious little time we all had left.
This has been a year of reflection for me. How did I get from there to here in what feels like such a short time? The young woman I was in 1974 is very different from the woman I am today.
Of course I have changed physically. More importantly, I have changed in ways that are not visible. I have changed who I am on the inside.
My seven unexpected takeaways in the last 50 years:
1. Perfect is not all it is cracked up to be.
School was a place to strive for perfection.
Perfect is a place of anxiety and a lack of balance. Perfect is an excuse and prevents me from pursuing creativity and writing this story.
My life significantly changed when I let go of perfection. I changed my thinking to “good enough” and doors opened up for me.
I jumped into experiences. I jumped into life.
2. Soft skills are more important than hard skills.
School taught me hard skills. Life taught me soft skills.
School taught me memorizing facts, algebra, and geography. Life taught me empathy, patience, and compromise.
I survive in life with the hard skills. I thrive and lead a happier, fulfilling, and contented life using soft skills.
3. You do whatever it takes.
I am having a meltdown. I have lived on four hours of sleep each night during my first month as a student in the Dental Hygiene program. Hours of homework each evening, along with the demands of raising a young family have taken their toll on me.
Another student, in her final year of the program, gives me a big hug. She tells me “you do whatever it takes to move forward.”
I find a way to put one foot in front of the other and take it one moment at a time. “I do whatever it takes” has become a mantra to help me get through the difficult times.
4. My gut has the answers before my mind catches up.
I am on a date with someone new. He invites me back to his apartment. Goosebumps on my arms warn me. My gut tells me to refuse.
I am happy I did not go. I am here today because I have learned to trust and listen to my body.
5. Expect the unexpected.
The power goes out. The car breaks down.
I always have a Plan B.
A Plan B is knowing where the flashlights and batteries are kept. A Plan B is squirrelling away some money for a rainy day. Sometimes, a Plan B is changing my attitude to patience and acceptance.
I adapt and stay flexible. I expect the unexpected.
6. Energy is a powerful resource.
Energy is being selective with how I spend my time. Energy is a hike in nature. Energy is a belly laugh.
Energy is hanging around friends who are supportive and inspire me.
I have learned to top up my energy resources. I now have the time and energy to truly appreciate and participate in the important moments in my life.
7. ‘Dadisms’ withstand the test of time.
I often rolled my eyes. Discreetly. My Dad repeated himself. A lot. I could not disagree with my Dad. I stayed quiet. Inside, I was ready to burst.
“You can’t turn a Chihuahua into a German shepherd,” when my Dad insisted nature was more important than nurture. “You can be in the right, yet dead right,” when my Dad was teaching me to drive defensively.
Fifty years later, I watch my children and grandchildren grow up. They are raised in the same household, with similar rules, and values. Their unique personalities and temperaments were apparent from the moment they were born. Nature often wins over nurture.
My Dad’s words are in my head every time I drive a car. My peripheral vision watches for the unpredictable drivers and the pedestrians on the road. I don’t want to be “dead right.”
Dadisms withstand the test of time. I know, because they have become my Momisms. I suspect my children roll their eyes. Discreetly.
Fast forward 50 years:
In 1974, these unexpected takeaways were not available to me. First, I had to experience life. The good and the bad.
I gained new perspectives. I learned to stay flexible and move forward. I learned to thrive in this world of constant change and uncertainty.
More importantly, I learned to change my mind. I have changed who I am on the inside.
