The other day, I was responding to a "friend" request from another person that I had not thought about in almost 20 years. Lately, I have noticed an upward swing in old "friends" finding me on Facebook and wanting to get reacquainted. Honestly, most of this has been funny to me. I don't know what it is about 20-year reunions, but it seems like more people begin to wonder about what "old so-and-so" is doing these days around the 20 year mark. I remember my mother-in-law telling me years ago that people start to be interested in old friends then because they are less interested in impressing old rivals, and more truly curious about people from back in the day. Personally, I think most people, when they join Facebook, become friend sluts and want as many as they possibly can. Truth be told, I have been de-friending people lately, mostly my more recent students, but sometimes people who send me things I hate. You know what I am talking about. And all those people who keep posting pictures of me, your time is coming.
When I was living in Texas, I worked with a person who had far more contacts back into my life in Oklahoma than I ever kept. I never felt bad about that. I always thought if those people wanted me to know what was going on in their lives, they would find me and let me know. But, because of this person, I knew everything that was going on with just about anyone I would care (or not care, for that matter) to know about. In many ways, this was mildly annoying. I wasn't really interested in what "old so-and-so" was up to, but I always got at least a weekly dose whether I needed it or not. When I moved to Florida this all dried up and I was all right with that. Until, out of the blue, some messages from members of my graduating class appeared in my inbox. And another friend invited me to join Facebook, and now my friends list is full of these people--people that I really had nothing in common with except geography. Still, it has been an interesting exercise getting acquainted all over again with these people, whose names are forever etched on my psyche (for both good and bad reasons respectively). It is amazing how comfortable and comforting it is to hear from someone I have known since 1976, despite the interlude of a dozen or more years. On a side note: Some of these folks have been very forthright in our conversations, in a way that you would be with a very close friend. It is my curse.
Which brings me to my thought for today: I do not like being a grown up. For much of my life, I was way too old for my age. I remember being such a fundy about music and insert something to be fundamentalist about, that I never had any time to have fun. And, I had to deal with some grown up things about myself earlier than some have to deal with them, so I always felt a little too old for my body. I chose friends that were like this as well. Way too serious. I always thought, "When I am 35, I will have finally grown into myself and feel comfortable that my inward age and outward age would be more in line." Well, this year I turn 37 and I can say unequivocally that I am not liking the being a grown up after all.
I realize that much of my outward expressions of seriousness and maturity couched a deep insecurity and immaturity. And, although I don't really deal with major insecurity anymore, I still feel so completely unprepared to deal with real-life struggles. Maybe everyone deals with these feelings. Maybe it is just me. I have talked about this before, but the older I get the more I wonder if I lived up to my potential, and not just the potential that others saw in me, but the potential I believed I had myself. The other day, I was wondering about greatness, and whether or not I will ever achieve any semblance of such, when I was quickly brought back to reality. I was talking to a woman yesterday who has very few options for jobs, and it really hit home to me that things could be much worse. Here I am wondering about what mark I will make on the world, and I really have it pretty easy. I get to set my own schedule. I get to do basically what I want, when I want. The church allows me to teach and thinks it is a good thing for me to do things in the community. Maybe I should not worry about being great.
All of this brings me back to my point, that I have not enjoyed becoming an adult. Maybe I thought being a grown up would mean I would not worry anymore. Maybe I really was a child. Maybe, I still am.
When I was living in Texas, I worked with a person who had far more contacts back into my life in Oklahoma than I ever kept. I never felt bad about that. I always thought if those people wanted me to know what was going on in their lives, they would find me and let me know. But, because of this person, I knew everything that was going on with just about anyone I would care (or not care, for that matter) to know about. In many ways, this was mildly annoying. I wasn't really interested in what "old so-and-so" was up to, but I always got at least a weekly dose whether I needed it or not. When I moved to Florida this all dried up and I was all right with that. Until, out of the blue, some messages from members of my graduating class appeared in my inbox. And another friend invited me to join Facebook, and now my friends list is full of these people--people that I really had nothing in common with except geography. Still, it has been an interesting exercise getting acquainted all over again with these people, whose names are forever etched on my psyche (for both good and bad reasons respectively). It is amazing how comfortable and comforting it is to hear from someone I have known since 1976, despite the interlude of a dozen or more years. On a side note: Some of these folks have been very forthright in our conversations, in a way that you would be with a very close friend. It is my curse.
Which brings me to my thought for today: I do not like being a grown up. For much of my life, I was way too old for my age. I remember being such a fundy about music and insert something to be fundamentalist about, that I never had any time to have fun. And, I had to deal with some grown up things about myself earlier than some have to deal with them, so I always felt a little too old for my body. I chose friends that were like this as well. Way too serious. I always thought, "When I am 35, I will have finally grown into myself and feel comfortable that my inward age and outward age would be more in line." Well, this year I turn 37 and I can say unequivocally that I am not liking the being a grown up after all.
I realize that much of my outward expressions of seriousness and maturity couched a deep insecurity and immaturity. And, although I don't really deal with major insecurity anymore, I still feel so completely unprepared to deal with real-life struggles. Maybe everyone deals with these feelings. Maybe it is just me. I have talked about this before, but the older I get the more I wonder if I lived up to my potential, and not just the potential that others saw in me, but the potential I believed I had myself. The other day, I was wondering about greatness, and whether or not I will ever achieve any semblance of such, when I was quickly brought back to reality. I was talking to a woman yesterday who has very few options for jobs, and it really hit home to me that things could be much worse. Here I am wondering about what mark I will make on the world, and I really have it pretty easy. I get to set my own schedule. I get to do basically what I want, when I want. The church allows me to teach and thinks it is a good thing for me to do things in the community. Maybe I should not worry about being great.
All of this brings me back to my point, that I have not enjoyed becoming an adult. Maybe I thought being a grown up would mean I would not worry anymore. Maybe I really was a child. Maybe, I still am.
1 comment:
OK, that Peter Pan picture disturbs me... and I don't know why.
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