When I was 6 or 7, I heard a boy making the strangest sounds. It was some sort of distressed wail, in between a cry and an angry roar. I looked to my mom to decipher the hidden meaning, the unclear emotion and she responded: "He can't decide whether to grow up or not." Adolescence was pain-staking for him and when a frustrating situation used to call for tears and fists, now the matured mind ask for rationale and understanding.... resulting in an in-between anguished cry.
I've been thinking a lot about this memory. I don't quite believe that all it takes to become a "grown-up" is acknowledgement. Nor is it practice. I can spend multiple days being responsible: waking up early to work out; eating a healthy breakfast; attending all my classes; asking effective questions; spending quality time reading assignments/newspaper/steinbeck; flossing; going to bed before midnight, etc. etc. Yet the day always comes that I regress: a bowl before class; skip class; a bowl for lunch; cheese-its for lunch; laundry and dishes piling; bills ignored; homework ignored; health ignored; finish the night drinking to get drunk; going to bed before sunrise, etc. etc.
I could say that a sign of my maturity is that the regression days become further and further apart. I could say that a sign of my maturity is that I don't care for those regression days and feel better after the productive days. But I can't rule out the simple fact that I still live for those regression days. Those days make me feel free, independent, untamed and popular. A balance is needed, and the kid lives on.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
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