choreography

west point has been training our army’s junior officers for over 200 years now, providing both a superb college education and shaping these headstrong, driven young men and women into military leaders, able to both function as a unit, part of a large and often maddening machine, as well as inspire those under their command to do the hardest and most frightening things, when everything in them screams, ‘no!’  

so, it probably shouldn’t have come as such a surprise to witness the efficiency and effectiveness of the in-processing of 1200+ incoming new cadets on R-Day.  but, what can i say, my experience with government processes has never been so smooth - and i admit, i was impressed. 

good-bye

the day started with a long line to check in; a long line that moved so quickly, i was wishing we hadn’t been so prompt.  ushered into an auditorium with 50 cadets and their families, we settled in for the briefing; a briefing so brief it was over before i even looked around.  within three minutes of taking my seat, a cadre member announced that we had 60 seconds to say goodbye, and we leapt to our feet to embrace.  a minute later, families were being steered out a back door while the new cadets exited stage left...and as we departed the auditorium in a blur of tears and haste, another group of 50 cadets was already assembling behind us. a second podium awaiting their too-brief briefing, as soon as the door closed on my heels.  

choreography, i thought. 

the day concluded with a parade across the Plain, all 1230 new cadets assembled by company and flanked by their cadre leadership.  the morning’s disheveled teens were already transformed into a (fairly) cohesive unit.  heads shaved, uniforms fitted, and marching in unison and formation.  

as a mom, all i really wanted was to spot my luke. to lay eyes on his face and discern if he was ‘ok.’  whatever that might mean.  a parent seated behind me found her son first and started sobbing.  my heart was in my throat as i scanned and searched.  tears welled in my eyes, at the magnitude of the assembly.  i mean, i struggle to get the boys and myself organized against a dinner plan, and they had over a thousand strangers (mostly teens!) organized in columns and rows and synchronized movement. 

choreography. 

i finally spotted him on the exit march (thanks to great binoculars) and then identified him in a few photos from the same angle (thanks to todd snapping all the companies, just in case.)  i noted his serious, but stoic face.  his posture looked weary, but his movements were deliberate; and i exhaled for the first time in 12 hours.  

parade on The Plain, Foxtrot company

but today, as i watched my 5th or 6th video of the same event i had a front row seat at, i had an aha moment. somehow in the heightened emotion of the moment, i had overlooked an important detail.  a small, sharp, right turn.  it doesn’t seem like that could possibly be important, but it was. in that instant, rows became columns and columns became rows.  and that simple recognition on my part brought clarity.  where i’d searched and scanned photos in frustration all day, suddenly i could spot him in a blurry mass.  

choreography. 

in so many ways lately i’ve been awed by choreography. both literally and figuratively the universe has masterfully steered my steps and the steps of those around me to the highest good - sometimes despite my own clumsiness or lack of rhythm.  the day after my hardest goodbye, i find myself in an unexpected place of peace and joy; for as i look around i see divine choreography has surrounded me with love and support. 

d: a similar peace and joy, felt through love and support, for luke

b: two letters in the mail to him already 

g: clear recognition of beautiful choreography