Happy Holidays, my dear friends and readers. I have felt a crazy, needful urge to write all day. I am currently in a hotel lobby in Oregon, on a public computer. I live in Florida. I have just travelled, relatively impromptu, all of the way across the country, smack dab in the middle of the holiday season, because my husband, my true love, never, ever knows what he wants for Christmas. He never asks for anything. He gives us, his family, everything. But this year, he absolutely knew what he wanted for Christmas. My husband wanted to see our college alma mater football team (a team, which he, himself, played for) play in their first ever college play-offs. And so here we are, in rainy, but beautiful and lovely and honestly, gracious and accommodating Eugene, Oregon.
My husband and I met at James Madison University in the quietly gorgeous Shenandoah Valley in Harrisonburg, VA. I met my husband my first weekend at JMU. We just recently celebrated our 31st wedding anniversary in October of this year. Up until lately, James Madison University was relatively/vaguely known/unknown to anyone whom I mentioned that I graduated from there. It is one of those wholesome, best kept secrets in the valley, and for those of us who enjoy living under the radar, we have been happy as clams, to keep it that way. The regional people in the DC/Richmond/Maryland/eastern PA areas are, of course, familiar with JMU and all of its charms and advantages, but it is clearly not one of those “University of . . . . Name the State” whom everyone and their grandmother is familiar with. And that never bothered me. Never. Even when professors at the University of Pittsburgh and Carnegie Mellon University, whom I sold college textbooks to, would smugly proclaim that I would have gotten a much better education had I stayed home to go to school there, I would equally as smugly think in my mind, “Perhaps, but I would not have had the overall, all-together amazing, gentle, kind, prodding but safe cocooning experience into the final phase of my turning into an adult. And even more importantly, I would never have met the love of my life.” James Madison University has something special that’s hard to put into words. It is a protective cottagey greenhouse that lets you bloom in your own way, and in your own time. It’s like having a sweet nanny/fairy godmother who knows your potential but allows you to reach it, just on your own and only when you are ready, planting the seeds, keeping you nourished and nurtured, and slowly filling you with the faith and the confidence which she already has in spades for you. And when the time is right, she gently, and optimistically, sets you free. At least JMU was that way when I was a student there. It’s something in the mountain air there. It’s a secret emanating from its sacred Bluestones that just makes you know how blessed you are to ease into final adulthood there. I once heard someone say that they had never met more people with higher E.Q.s than people who had gone to James Madison University. James Madison is good at making sure that every graduate, graduates as a “whole” person. And is there any better way to go at life than when you are filled with a sense of your own wholeness? Is there any better protective cloak in life than being whole?
Obviously, it goes without saying that I love James Madison University, but we aren’t known for our football team. It’s only in the last five years or so, that JMU has ever made national news, regarding its football team. And that is a huge contrast to the team which we are playing tomorrow. The University of Oregon’s football team has a long legacy of NFL players, Heisman trophy winners and 37 Bowl games under its duckbills. Some football elites are angered that this playoff scenario has even happened. They believe that this “David versus Goliath” experience should not even be allowed, and NCAA rules have already recently been changed to ensure that this won’t likely happen again.
But we are Americans. And we love a Cinderella story. And in my mind, America could really use a Cinderella story right now. I have been to the awe-striking Pacific Northwest previously, but I have never been to Oregon. And it is lovely. It is gorgeous and green and filled with tall, lush, ancient trees. The people here are kind, open-minded, colorful, friendly, and robust. So far, they are treating the many of us East Coast JMU people (many more than I expected to make the trip!), warm-heartedly and with curiosity and consideration. They make me proud to be part of this immensely large and diverse country. I am doing my own best to be a good ambassador of my beloved alma mater, and my own east coast roots and traditions. I want them to feel the same pride and communion which I feel now, even in our competitive spirit tomorrow.
I felt desperate to write this blog post before I came back home, before the game happened even, because it really doesn’t matter the outcome tomorrow. The winning has already happened. The winning has happened for a sweet, not largely known university to make it to the primetime, with guts, grit, brotherhood and a huge belief in themselves. It has happened for a patient, and jubilant fanbase, who excitedly made impromptu plans in the middle of the holidays to make the college football playoffs, at least some part of the plans which were already in place. The winning has happened for a young man and a young woman who met each other one weekend in Harrisonburg, VA and found a love like no other. Sometimes winning is just understanding how is to live in the pure wholeness of your one sweet life and appreciating all the supporting players and systems which have helped you live it, all along the way.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
