Completion?

Our recently completed trip to Massachusetts left me with an unnamed sensation. It continued to puzzle me for several weeks. The comfort of my trip ‘home’ was very real. I was prepared for a huge letdown, you know, expectations unrealized. That did not happen. The trip proved to be every bit what I had hoped for it.

Seeing the old house, neighborhood and region, was somehow very comforting. Revisiting old haunts recalled many memories. Those memories were varied, of early years, developing personhood, education and adolescent experiences. Intellectual blossoming was included. The arts and culture were very much a part of my upbringing. And yet, this sense of meaning kept niggling me. Something was meant by all this.

Weeks later, through the holidays and all, it finally came to me. A sense of completion was a real part of the trip.

Completion? Yes, somehow the wonder and openness of the years growing up, were eventually answered by adult experiences over many decades. I returned to the Berkshires more than an adult, but an elder citizen. My life amounted to something through the years. The promise hinted at while growing up was actually achieved in adulthood.

That may sound grandiose, but it is not intended to be. What we hope to achieve in life is often undefined and nebulous. We may wish for creature comforts and income or wealth to make that a reality in our lives. It is a moving target, however, and we soon learn that large wealth is not needed to experience life successfully, even meaningfully.

Meaningfully. A good word. One that suggests value orientations. Simply put, living a meaningful life means conducting life’s activities in a way that benefits others and the community. Here the term community is very broad. It may refer to a specific neighborhood, town, city, state or national region. It could even refer to an international territory.

Growing up we confront values at every turn. We are told to ‘grow up’ and be an adult. We are exhorted to live a life of value, value to others. Those exhortations were not to achieve wealth but rather to matter to other people. Whatever form that takes, defining it as an objective is perhaps impossible. I certainly never knew what it was.

Today I have a better feeling for it. I do not live a life of luxury or plenty of any kind. I have many friends, a tidy family and a life mainly lived in one Illinois county. This part of the world is of major consequence. Leaders in this region manage major agricultural industries with global impact. Leaders also run huge corporations and industries with clear international impact. Our educational system is endowed with public and private institutions of great value. We research, invent and develop skills and practices that benefit many people. Each of us lends what we can to all of these endeavors and enriches the region in many ways. Those points of enrichment fuel success in many fields dependent on our cultural wholeness.

We serve educational interests and wellness, we support health and wholeness of our people, we work in industries of many kinds and help them succeed for the benefit of countless other people. We even work cross culturally and across industries to enrich how all of these organizations function successfully.

What individual role I played, or you, is not to be defined. Nor need it be. Just knowing we have done much to accomplish much for our group entirety is the point of it all. We have done much. We matter. Our lives have been meaningful, then and now. We continue to provide value to human existence.

That is the sense of completion I refer to. Sketchy, I know. The more this term rattles around my head, however, the more sense it makes. Somehow, I earned a label of success learned in part by growing up in a specific area or region with its inborne values and talents. The wholeness of it all, the worthiness of life’s efforts comes to realization, and I can take a breath and relax.

We all do much. Not always of consequence nor intent. Some of our efforts are purely accidental. But worthy, just the same. Somehow, all of this completes each of us.

And that is what I learned by revisiting my old home 1000 miles away.

January 8, 2024