Today is March 15th - the Ides of March.
Which triggers thoughts of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, in which a soothsayer utters the foreboding line, "Beware the Ides of March."
Which triggers memories of sophomore year Advanced English class with the late Mr. Harris, in which we studied Julius Caesar, along with rhetoric and debate (for which we divided up into teams to verbally duke it out over how to deal with passive aggression in the public schools, for which my team came up with "P.A.R.E. - Passive Aggression Resistance Education," for which I came up with a killer logo) and science fiction (for which we were required to write short stories, and mine was about an eerie world in which women could no longer have children. I can't remember what I titled it...it wasn't "Children of Men," but I still think perhaps I should get royalties...)
Which triggers memories of high school classmates I have not thought about in years, and I wonder what has become of them, and if I will see them at our 10 year reunion next year.
Which triggers incredulity that it's already been almost 10 years since I strode the halls of my high school, tall and proud and insecure and carefree and stressed out all at once, a top-two-percent-national-honor-society-varsity-athlete-choir-member-forensics-competitor-school-spirit-fanatic, and how I thought all those accolades and activities would get me somewhere and make me someone.
Which triggers thoughts about how the life I am living today is not at all what I imagined for myself back then.
Which triggers questions of what life would be like if it HAD turned out the way I'd imagined, and how I feel about the fact that reality is really quite different, but mostly wonderful all the same.
Which triggers my recollection of a paragraph or two near the end of Phil Vischer's Me, Myself, and Bob, which I finished reading recently, in which he proposes that as Christians we really have no business having "big, hairy audacious goals" or a strategically plotted answer to "where do you see yourself in 5 years?" other than "In the center of God's will" or something equally submissive and not-the-pilot-of-this-ship.
Which triggers relief, because honestly I don't know where I will be or even want to be in 5 or 10 years, and frankly I'm rather gun-shy about committing to any ideas about that because where I saw myself 10 and 5 years ago never happened, and it's hard to accept that I am where I am and I'm not where I could be if there's this expectation that where I saw myself is where I'm supposed to be and where I am instead is all my fault.
Which triggers a sense that I'm no longer making much. Sense, that is.
So, yeah, the Ides of March. Beware.