I have to laugh at myself. Sometimes I can be such a grump. Mornings are worse than other times, but I won't limit myself to that time of day. I can also sit on the pity pot, worry about things that are fiction, still find my big toe a thing of interest and curiosity, and all kinds of nutty things. Now, I enjoy these things, even if they might mean I'm still a kid. But I thought I would grow up someday! I thought growing up meant that my feelings wouldn't be hurt by relatively unimportant things. I thought I'd be used to my body and it would become purely utilitarian, not the sensational, sensitive, interesting thing it seems to be. I thought I'd say something and it would be said correctly and everybody would understand, which also means all the other adults would be just as mature as myself. So, what happened?
Funny thing, I guess, but the fact remains. I don’t believe I will ever fully grow up here. This isn't the place for it any more than the womb was the place for me to get my first college degree. There like here, it's icky and confusing and confining at times. This has been a disturbing and recurring wonderment to me, maturity, it’s definition, and it’s resolution. One which I am finally writing about and exploring.
I must add, I actually love life even more when I view it this way. It means my seemingly lost childhood is only as lost as I choose it to be. Sure, I can be more decisive now, I can be more accurate, and sure of my thinking, and I can iterate or write my thoughts more concisely and clearly then when I was a physical child. But knowing that I am still a child in the whole of truth, I can enjoy my world, I can understand my foibles, and I can manage being wrong at times because I know I am still a child. I also know that there will be a place to mature more fully, though somehow, I don’t think my early perceptions of maturity will be as sterile as I had thought. As well, these considerations allow me to get over myself. Which is precisely why I am writing this evening.
This morning I was put out, upset about the oddest things. I didn't quite have a tantrum, it was more a snit. (I like that word, it's fun and oh so appropriate sometimes) I was, as I see it now, quite wrong and silly. But that is ok too. It is ok to miss the mark. It is ok to be stupid, ignorant, wrong, foolish, and many other things so long as I can recover and put things back into place to begin back on the right path in the correct direction. Not all words can be taken back, not all actions can be undone, but since I share in the right society, forgiveness is handed out like the sweet candy it is. This doesn’t give me a free pass, however, it only is something that I can hope for and ask for, not expect or take for granted. It is a gift, if it flows easily at times. And, as the wisest has indicated, it must be asked for in humility and with true regret. Wisdom and kindness, forgiveness and friendship, these things are gifts. I am only glad I have friends who have these to give, that I know people who share these things. That though I live in a harsh world, men are different and some choose these things rather than the natural order. And, I appreciate their charity. And sometimes, the charity I receive will be for and from me. How odd that seems. My lessons, of course, continue.
Yes, life can be very good. People really are special.
Tired crankiness can make you say things a more awake you wouldn't imagine saying. That's why it's important to learn the guy morning language at an early age, it's kind of like sloppy doctors handwriting. Say everything with grunts, no one else but you can read it and when you have to explain yourself in court later, you can say it was anything.
ReplyDeleteYeah, you know it. I can also add that it only "improves" with age. It's a gas, if I can step back enough to laugh at the thing though. And it's not exactly nice, but it is fun to notice other guys while they are stuck in it, then later both laugh about it. However, with women I approach that line carefully:) Men can only kill you.
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