Living Beyond the Mundane

I just got back from attending my oldest's college graduation, moving her out of her apartment, and bringing her (and most of her stuff!) home for a few months. Being the first of its kind for me, it was really quite an experience. I mean, her high school graduation was something very special (as will be her sister's in just a few weeks), but the college thing was very different. The fact that she graduated from my (and my wife's) alma mater added its own twist, too. When your child graduates from high school, there is a sense that he/she has completed childhood and is entering the realm of adulthood. College graduation, though, means that the entering is over and your "child" is now, officially, an adult. Hard as that may be to realize, at least at times, that's the way your child/adult sees it, and even more revealing, it's the way the world sees things as well.

Anyway, the commencement speaker was the Chairman of the Division of Music at the university. As a graduate of that department, I was particularly pleased to know he would be the speaker. And as you might expect, being a musician, his address was full of fun and creativity and meaning, but it was not the laser-focused oratory you might expect from, say, a science or business professor. Being the musician that I am, though, it was right up my alley!

Dr. James Vernon, Chairman of the Division of Music at Oklahoma Baptist University spoke on "Living Beyond the Mundane." He and a friend have an ongoing discussion regarding how much of life is simply mundane rather than full of richness, meaning and significance. Vernon contends that all of life should be full of meaning, and he used an operatic illustration to make his point. It may have been the fact that my emotions were pretty raw from exhaustion and the realization that my first-born is now an adult, but the recording of Franco Corelli's performance of an aria from Puccini's Turandot that Vernon shared at the end of his remarks literally brought me to tears.

What does opera have to do with "living beyond the mundane" you may ask? Besides the details of the plot (too lengthy to share here), Corelli overcame incredible obstacles (family background, discouragement from leading musicians, incredible stage fright, etc.) to become the leading tenor of his day. He could, and maybe in some respects should, have ended-up leading a very different, much more mundane, life. However, he chose to chart a course that took him to stardom and a legacy that impacts the world of music to this day. We have a similar choice.

Watching my oldest walk across the platform and officially enter the realm of full-fledged adulthood brought a wide spectrum of emotions--pride, a sense of finishing and of new beginning, a sense of urgency for the time I have left with my other two daughters, a renewed realization of my own stage in life. As I look back on the days that have brought us to this point, I hope I chose to live enough of them beyond the mundane, realizing, at least in hindsight, the significance of every moment of every day. And as I look forward to the future, I do so with a renewed sense of the importance of living it beyond the mundane, infusing every possible moment with richness and meaning. From the simple, relaxed times to the poignant and powerful moments, I am reminded that every second has the chance to be significant in its own way.

Dr. Vernon is far too young to have been teaching during my days at OBU, but I'm glad to know he's there as my middle daughter heads out there (to major in music) this fall. Thanks for the reminder Doctor V!