Adult.
Well, to be or to not be has been the question. I recently turned twenty-five and have been entirely engulfed in my ability to define adulthood. Up until recently, I hadn’t thought too much about what it means to be an adult. I did know, however, that regardless of what it was, I most likely was far off.
In the previous post I mentioned that I wrote a self-reflection outlining the last few years of my life. This was included in a theater story-telling project about “beginnings”. As I wrote my story and revised, I realized that my twenties have been a series of attempts at beginning… beginning adulthood. College graduation, a relationship I thought would lead to marriage, corporate employment, home-ownership… you name it. At the age of twenty-five, all I had to show for these attempts was confusion… left-over puzzle pieces from different pictures. I came to the realization that adulthood may mean different things to different people. Maybe some of those aforementioned life experiences worked for some, maybe they didn’t. And that’s okay. My revelation lies in the ability to self-reflect, to be constantly refining my mind and my heart, to be committed to self improvement/ self-sacrifice, and make life choices accordingly.
"A child becomes an adult when he realizes that he has a right not only to be right but also to be wrong.”
And holy cow, is that difficult.
Just when I thought I was finally on top of this topic, I was thrown another curve ball this weekend. At Crossroads, Brian Tome discussed sacrifice. Sacrifice as a symbol of maturity and freedom… two ideas that I include in my perception of adulthood. He described sacrifice as a few things: not doing something though those around you are and seem to be doing just fine, and not keeping what you could keep/ giving without keeping count.
Pretty vague, eh?
When I heard this, my mind started to race; that description has infinite meaning and permeates throughout all of life. What am I doing or saying in normal behavior that is not necessarily beneficial, yet permissible? What am I accruing that I don’t necessarily need? How acutely aware am I of each time I give of myself to others?
As these questions began to multiply, I began to feel heaviness upon my shoulders. This sacrifice thing sounds like an asset to adulthood and to maturity… but to freedom? I’m already feeling weighed down by this and freedom is supposed to be, well, freeing.
He went on to paint a picture of a fish in a bowl. A fish is seemingly constrained in a bowl… it has boundaries, limitations, has been forced to sacrifice its life outside the bowl. However, if you break the walls of the fishbowl and the fish goes free, it will surely die because the elements that give it life are no longer in reach. Freedom without borders isn't freedom, it's chaos and cumbersome.The fishbowl LOOKS like sacrifice, looks like harsh boundaries… but it actually provides the fish a freedom to be- and to live.
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Yet another adulthood lesson… Boundaries, sacrifice, and modified life perspective may not help me climb the corporate ladder, walk down the aisle, or pay my mortgage but so far, seem to be paving the way to a certain type of clarity just as fervently.
