So Long, Graduation. Hello, Musical Chairs.

A graduation ceremony on the National Mall ends with chairs being folded, stacked, and removed from the grassy area. Moments of music, marching, flags, speeches, and cameras give way when caps are tossed and the crowd disperses. Only a dismantled platform and metal chairs remain as people sit and reflect on the work required to reach the stage, receive a handshake, and obtain a diploma. After the ceremony, dorms close, classmates separate, and professors leave for summer plans. Promises to stay in touch feel uncertain because nothing will be the same. The experience resembles musical chairs, but the circle widens and expectations rise as the next stage approaches.

"On a grassy patch on the National Mall in the center of our nation's capital, the party is over. The Capitol is on one end; the Washington Monument is at the other. And yet, all I can think about are these metal chairs. All 25,000 of them. They are going away now. One by one, they are being folded, stacked, and carted over to the event trucks parked on the nearby streets."

"Just minutes ago, this sunny day was abuzz with excitement. The band was playing, the bagpipers piping, the color guards marching, the flags waving, the speakers speaking, the cameras flashing. And then, suddenly, the happy graduates tossed their caps into the air, and when they came down, it was over. The crowd lingered for a while. Congratulations hung in the air. But now all that's left to show is a platform being dismantled one piece at a time and these metal chairs."

"One of which I'm sitting on as I think about my son and all of us who have ever graduated. We worked so hard to get to this finish line, to walk up on that stage, to receive that handshake and that diploma. And then, just like that, it all changes right before our eyes. Our dormitory closes. Our classmates go off in different directions. Our professors head off to do whatever it is they do in the summer. We swear we'll keep in touch, but we know that nothing will ever be the same."

"It's as if the rug has been pulled out from under us. Even the metal chairs where we were sitting just moments ago are gone, leaving us to, well, stand on our own two feet. This is nothing new, of course. We graduated from grade school and from high school. Every time "Pomp and Circumstance" ended, it was time to move on."

Read at Psychology Today