Our son graduated from college last weekend. He now has some wayfinding to do. He double majored in English and computer science. All along, he expected he would pursue a career in computer science for practicality. The English degree was for his heart. As the semesters went by, we saw his literature classes light him up. We saw pride when he talked about the papers he wrote.

When graduation weekend approached, he really wanted us there for his English ceremony, where he’d get to walk the stage with the English department and shake hands with the professors he loved and that helped him find and appreciate great literature. We were there for it, in the outdoor amphitheater surrounded by white columned buildings.

I expected our son to have some wayfinding to do after graduation. I did not expect his graduation exercises to affect me as deeply as they did. The English ceremony knocked me off kilter. I cried during the main speech, given by an exceptional speaker, probably a Shakespearean actor, who quoted passages and referenced authors I love. My heart swelled for our son because I knew these were his people. I thought, these are my people, too. And it shook me up, because that is not the path I chose.

This week I’ve been thinking a lot about what moves me, about why we’re here, about what I’m doing with my life. I’m trying not to have regrets. I don’t want a different outcome for my life. If I’d made different choices, I wouldn’t have the people in my life who I love: my husband, my kids, my post-college friends. I do regret not paying attention to my own loves, to what lit me up, and pursuing more of that so that I could have that experience. I loved my literature classes. I loved reading and learning and digging into the meaning of texts with other people. At our son’s graduation, as the English department speakers talked about what the graduates learned in their studies, I longed for that for myself. I came home and looked into graduate school. What would it take to get a masters in English? Do I have it in me?

As a 51 year-old woman, I find myself doing my own wayfinding right now.

I woke this morning thinking, I want to blog today. I’ve been quiet the past week after graduation, not really ready to talk about my unsettled feeling, my deep seeking. Now I’m ready. When I saw today’s blog prompt — What is the meaning of life? — I had to laugh. I guess the universe is ready too.

I’ve been tracking my activities the past couple of weeks to pay attention to what engages me, what energizes me, and what drains me. This has been especially poignant after the graduation exercises last weekend. The English ceremony made me reckon with my struggle to understand myself and be true to what lights me up.

Today I seeded a mind map with one of the things from my activity tracking that both energizes and engages me — communication — and did a bunch of free-word association from there. A few things popped up multiple times in this and another similar exercise I did yesterday: books, stories, art, beauty, humans, laughter, understanding. Peace. Connection. I guess these are the meaning of life to me. These are my way.