Discombobulated

Have I mentioned EIEIO, the Eastern Institute for Enlightenment and Intellectual Output? I had a T-shirt when I was a teenager that had that moniker on it, referring to the Hokies, the home of the Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University, better known as Virginia Tech. From my father's experience of teaching at Viriginia Tech and my uncle's experiences teaching at Duke and Florida State, I grew up knowing what college life was about, including the T-shirt satirized logo craze. I also knew about regular college life, such as going to class, studying, watching TV, playing sports and attending sports events (not failing to mention the party life of many college coeds).

By the time I got to college, starting my gradual student career at the Georgia Institute of Technology (better known as Georgia Tech, the Yellow Jackets, Rambling Wreck, MIT of the South, et al), I was ready for all that college life had to offer.

That is, I was ready to be an adult on my own, excel or pass, succeed or fail. Here I am, 30 years later, and I'm still ready to be an adult, with successes and failures (i.e., "lessons learned") notched on my belt.

At middle age, I can no longer say I don't know what I want to be when I grow up because I've stopped growing up. Instead, I'm growing older. Wiser, too, I suppose (long ago having received the certificate of Wise Guy from the school of hard knocks).

Learning is a lifelong process. We may or may not need formal learning in our adult years in order to accomplish our goals. For instance, I'll keep learning as long as I live, whether through interaction with my environment or careful study of text and labwork in an actual and/or virtual classroom setting.

This past weekend, I attended a series of events tied to a formal wedding ceremony. The events included people from two families and out of those two families, there were a limited number of invited attendees.

Today, I feel discombobulated (a word about as big as the cigar I smoked after the wedding to celebrate the entry of my cousin and other guys into man-hood). I sense a change in the output of words from world governments. I sense a change in my understanding of my place in the universe. I sense a change in the way businesses and corporations are dividing up revenue streams. My discombobulation centers on the change I don't sense - the change in the moods of groups of people around the world.

I don't know when my last day on this planet will occur. Assuming I never leave the planet, I have approximately 14822 days to keep learning before my existence as a member of our species ends here.

I am a member of one of the groups of people on this planet. If I feel discombobulated, then other people probably feel that way, too. I cannot speak for others who feel this way. I can barely see why I do.

I admit I made a mistake this past weekend. I did not invite uninvited family members to crash a family party to which I was invited. I had the opportunity to show others that we're all the same and failed to make that point clear. The world is a little less bright this week because of my limited desire to change the world one person at a time. I cannot turn back the clock. I cannot undo what I didn't do.

I learned a lesson about myself this weekend, a type of lesson I may never be able to apply my new learning to - we are all family, all seven billion of us. If we forget that we're family, we make bigger mistakes later on, from family quarrels to nuclear war. I cannot make up for my mistake this weekend but I will eventually recover from my discombobulation. Who will I be? I'm too discombobulated at this moment to imagine if I'll be better or worse. Right now, I don't like myself so I can only see the worse side of what I'm to become - not a time to think about the past, present or future. I cannot change the past so there's no need to punish myself, just look for the lesson learned and move on.