I got the heebie‑jeebies

My 50th high school reunion is tomorrow.

(That’s me in the back row to the right in our Madrigals group in 1976.)

It’s a time when labels are used. Seven hours of mingling and sharing labels. I got the heebie‑jeebies.

Good thing there’ll be TWO bars. Wait… “Hi, I’m Ken, and I’m an alcoholic.”

So, I guess no liquid courage to help. Dang. That label ain’t gonna help me navigate a night of labels lol.

The labels are, to some degree, words that define the meaningful things of our lives.

“I’m a grandpa.” Innocent and beautiful. Right?

But what about my classmates who aren’t? How will they feel seeing the pictures of my 22 grandchildren? It’s a label they don’t share. Is my label better than their label? Maybe they’re an uncle or have another meaningful relationship that’s equally braggable. So, no harm/no foul, right?

Those labels, grandpa and husband… they’re at least relational and not socially divisive.

What about the label: retired?

Probably safe. Because at our 50th, we’re all either a) retired, b) gonna retire in the next few years, or c) can’t or won’t ever retire, which is a whole ‘nuther ball of wax lol.

Then there’s the political labels: Democratic, Republican, Conservative, Progressive, Libertarian.

Or the religious ones: Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Born-Again (though that’s not in vogue much anymore lol), Lutheran. (Gonna be lots of Lutherans there), Deconstructed (me). Episcopalian (also me)… though likely not many of them lol.

Let’s not forget: Atheist, Agnostic, Humanist, Vegan, Buddhist. I’m sure all will be represented tomorrow night.

Not all labels are nouns: “I’m in recovery” (me), “I’m into “fill-in-the-blank-whatever-healthy-lifestyle.”

Finally, the shame-labels: “I’m a mess” (someone tomorrow night will inevitably say that), “I’m bipolar” (me), “I’ve got a chronic illness,” and the catch all “I don’t know what I am” often said with a sad face that says… I don’t feel like I fit anywhere. I call that one the “lonely-label.”

We all carry multiple labels. Even “I don’t believe in labels” is a label too. It’s the “I’m annoyed by labels” label lol.

I hate labels. Most of us hate labels. But we use them.

They are the elevator speech for what’s important to us. And that’s not all bad. I can tell you an hour’s worth of what’s important to me in just a few labels. A few words. It’s shorthand. There’s convenience in that. It’s unlikely I’ll ever be able to go cold-turkey from labels.

But labels also can divide.

It may be a subtle and quiet division. (I’m a Dad. I’m Single.) Or sometimes a loud one. (I’m a Republican. I’m a Democrat.)

So how will I navigate tomorrow night’s label-fest?

The Plan

I hope I’m full of love.

I hope I see beyond “what you believe” and “what you do” and see instead “who you are.”

I hope that I see the little child inside each and every one of us. Inside of me. Inside of you.

I hope I remember that I am not my successes. I really hope I remember that I am also not my failures. Because I still fight the shame of failure. Tomorrow night will try to trigger my shame. That’s no one’s fault. It just is.

So, I hope I remember…

I am only this moment. And you are only this moment. We are not what we did or didn’t do in the past. We are not what we believe. We are simply human… little children who happen to have circled the sun 68 times.

Maybe we’re just two people, right now, trying to connect and bridge the gap of loneliness that we may secretly carry. That feeling hidden away from even ourselves most of the time… that feeling that whispers… no one really gets me.

We’ll try to find that special moment when, as C.S. Lewis put it, we realize… “Oh! you too?” and friendship is born.

And I’ll try to do that a bunch of times tomorrow night.