A quick Google search estimates that you will meet some 80,000 people if you live an 80 year life span. These are actual interactions and not simply faces you see on the street. The number of faces you pass in a lifetime is estimated in the millions. Eventually, the math scales down to 5 that is considered your inner circle.

As a teenager, in the wonder years (I affectionately refer my middle schools years as), I prided myself in having several friends. On my bulletin board, I had a single sheet of lined paper that listed my friends by their home phone number. I excitedly added names and numbers as my list grew longer. The thread that bound us in a moment in time? A song, a kiss, the same taste in music, clothes, etc.

I imagine connections being like thread that weaves in and out of your life, the tighter the thread, the closer connection. So, as I began to sew my connections and hand out string, it became a web of my existence.

As life continued on, some threads were cut. The relationship at the time had ended and severed permanently. Some threads became looser but because of the once strong, taunt connection, it remained. These threads I find interesting. They hold the DNA to our past selves and are a valued connection. These threads I most often look at when I remember my childhood, first loves (and heart break), and awkward phases of my life. I try to remember who I was then when the thread was tighter. Am I the same person as I am now? I am not sure. I believe there is some semblance of my former self buried beneath all the changes life has thrown at me.

There’s also a little mourning involved with these threads. As much as you’d like them to be tighter, there’s simply no way it can be. Too much as happened. You can’t cut the thread; there’s too much connection but at the same time, it can’t be pulled tighter.

I realized all of this over the weekend, homecoming weekend, a time to reunite and celebrate the thread we all shared called high school. So much as happened since then. Now, don’t get me wrong, it was great seeing people, sharing a hug, and a photograph. However, after the polite “how are you?” it’s sometimes hard to continue a conversation unless it reverts back to high school or a former life. Part of that hurts my heart, a mourning I mentioned earlier but the 41 year old me realizes that this is life; it’s simply in the math.

There’s also a weird thing that happens when your lives have taken completely different paths or maybe one of you has experienced different circumstances that none of you expected in high school. Then, the conversation, takes a different note. One that cares enough to ask how things are going but not knowing how to respond after the answer. And this is life and that’s okay.

It’s important that we recognize these connections for what they are and be grateful for them. It doesn’t mean that you don’t care. It means that life has taken you on a different path. You aren’t going be the exact person you were some 23 years ago (no one wants to be the Matthew McConaughey guy still hitting on high school girls because they stay the same age).

So, the original threads in what you thought you were spinning for your life changed, that’s okay. In the end, what matters is that you only have one life (filled with wonderful ups and crazy downs) and it’s up to you to be thankful and show up. Celebrate old friends, cherish the strong connections, and live, accepting you aren’t the person you once were but you are better, and you are better because all of these things and threads (new and old).