Out of dormancy

April 26, 2009

Here I am, on the porch of our cottage “cheese” typing away as all the weekend warriors head back to Buffalo, Pittsburgh or Cleveland after their big days on the lake shore. I feel like I’m getting to be part of the Chautauqua culture. I told our neighbors that the beauty and relaxed feeling of being here for days on end is like the high of “Chautauqua crack.”

Perhaps the decision to take the buyout from The News will be like the “butterfly effect” for the Stanleys. (You know the butterfly effect. A butterfly flaps its wings in the Amazon and sets off a thunderstorm in Kansas.) The titanic mental debate that went into the buyout decision could end up as the catalyst for change – change that Judy (blessed wife) and I have discussed for a very long time, but were always reluctant to actually make happen. We could end up selling both houses and consolidating into one home, either in the Chautauqua region or out of state, perhaps North Carolina. (Hello, Duke University, you’re missing out on a brilliant professor in Dr. Stanley.) What is life all about if you can't take some chances and make life a little more exhilarating?

I talked with all the children today, and everyone seems to be in good spirits. I like what my eldest daughter told me:

“You’re awakening something that has been dormant in you for a long time.”

That’s how she explained away the stress and anxiety I’ve been feeling. I want to say that I’m becoming somewhat more comfortable in my post-newspaper skin. We had an excellent session around the bonfire last night with our neighbors, just enjoying the warm spring evening and talking about all the change coming this year.

We’ve been noticing all these instances of synchronicity over the past few weeks, seeing people we haven’t seen in years. Last night, Judy (blessed wife) and I were regaling people around the bonfire with tales of how we met at “the log” when we were teenagers. It was a rather bucolic spot in suburban Buffalo where two trees had fallen to make some comfortable sitting areas. It was surrounded by woods, and Cazenovia Creek rippled along not far from the log. Our teenage clique used to make bonfires there, sit on the logs and drink Boone’s Farm wine and Koehler beer. That’s how Judy and I came to meet for the start of a wonderful life together. I was about to fall backward off the log and Judy was sitting next to me at the time. As I fell, I think I whacked her with one of my arms. That got her attention, and the rest is history. I did fall off the log, onto my back, but bounced back up red-faced and happy.

Anyway, as we took a walk this morning, we came upon two old friends from “the log,” one of whom we hadn’t seen in 30 years. It’s weird how life keeps coming around in circles. Why are we talking about the log, and then meeting someone from there the next day that we hadn’t seen in decades? What does it mean? What lesson should I draw from the encounter?

All I know is that my brain neurons are firing in sequences not encountered in years. It’s exciting not to know what lies ahead one year from now. I’ve been trying to envision myself in May 2010, but then again the daily journey is getting pretty interesting and worth paying attention to.

In two weeks, I’ll be immersed in classes, just like I was 34 years ago at Syracuse University.

Will I be a good student?

I think so. (And the weekend will still begin on Tuesdays!)