On growing up

Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.  ~Chili Davis

I had to laugh at myself the other day. Chatting to my crazy friends, I quipped "Wow. I can just imagine us twenty years from now - as grown ups - talking all this smack. What will our kids think?"

I laughed. At 28 years-old, I'm still not a grown-up? I sure as hell don't feel like one. What is a grown-up? The idea of it still daunts me. There just seems to be so much attached to it. What does it really mean? I find it terrifying. It seems as if in order to truly be 'grown-up', you have to let go of some(every)thing.

Everyone's familiar with the bible passage that says, "When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things." Is that what's expected of me? To put away childish things? But what if I *like* my childish things? 


What if I'm still insecure and like to be affirmed? What if I still want to have it easy; party all night;  Does that make me any less of a 'grown-up'? That phrase in itself implies a definite state - unmistakable and completely measurable. Almost like you need to have taken on a new form, like a catterpillar to a butterfly. The end of the cycle; fully evolved. 


But is that what it is really? Why a grown-up? How about a grown-higher?
Do we ever stop growing up?

Growth

God has entrusted me with myself.  ~Epictetus

Somebody I follow on Twitter inspired me to write this - but more importantly, to share it.

The longer I run, the more I am willing to let catch up with me;
The more ground I cover, the less the race means.
The further from fun, the more like unadulterated bliss it will be;
The less it is fantasy, the more surreal it feels.

Reckless is cautious; and down somehow becomes up.
The answers turn obvious, when you learn to fill your own cup.

The years become welcome, when growth proves itself boundless;

The urge to control dissipates, though you paint you your own canvas.

The noise of urgency succumbs, to a love that is soundless.

And self becomes all you hear, when age finally overcomes brashness.

Getting there is in remembering why you went

Some things have to be believed to be seen.  

~Ralph Hodgson

From this episode forward, the role previously played by 'Hubby' will be played by 'The Mr'. (It was recently pointed out to me that hubby is one of the least sexy things a lady can say to describe her guy)

The Mr and I have really been working hard at this partnership thing. We're both very aware of our triggers and respective neuroses and are starting to become acquainted with each others' too.

I got to thinking... of the many, many, epiphanies I've had (of which only a *few* are included in this blog - trust me), this is the one I've most believed, affirmed, held on to and fought for. I don't know... I'm feeling a little bit of pride here, I have to say. Inside, I'm all like "I've finally found something I finally effing know for sure!" It's proof that this life has not gotten the better of me and I do have a solid core.

I never stopped trying to make it better. That doesn't mean there haven't been times when it got worse. We'd slip into our comfort zones, step back into our roles - but eventually I'd snap out of it and drag him with me. The best part is, he did the same. I was strong when he couldn't be and when I was weak, he wasn't.

That's what it's supposed to be, right? We had a long discussion this weekend about roles and how we assume them, what informs them. His upbringing was textbook, classic. Mother, Father - homemaker, provider. My story is a touch unconventional in comparison to that. I knew only of two individuals, living and doing everything separately - including parenting me - almost a duality of being.

I think I realise now that my child-like mind decided a long time ago what my adult reasoning is finally starting to believe: marriage = one whole. If it's made up of two parts, then they must be equal halves. They just have to be. That's what my own experience, that of friends, and that of my parents' friends has shown me. It's the only way it will work. I'm proud to know it's a belief I've had for that long and a belief that I still hold on to. I'm starting to think there could actually be a real person in here somewhere. *fingers crossed*

Good to know, but far from being the final destination. There's work yet to be done. I mean, this is me we're taking about and self-indulgence is a known vice of mine. It too often leads me over-step the halfway line - seeing myself as bigger than the marriage. I usually check myself on that, but my response-times are not so hot.

The system still has a few kinks in it too. We still use our trusted mutual ritual of bottling up and exploding, but the explosions are getting more frequent and less intense. They used to be blood-letting sessions, now they're just emotional conversations.

Slowly, slowly.

The quiet after the storm

God's poet is silence! His song is unspoken,
And yet so profound, so loud, and so far,
It fills you, it thrills you with measures unbroken,
And as soft, and as fair, and as far as a star.
~Joaquin Miller

And now... silence.

Everything I shouted from the roof tops, the dark secrets I let spill from my lips. It all lays there in a tangled mess, and it seems almost as if it has done nothing but stun us into complete silence. Not that we aren't dealing with it. We are. Steadily, working through all that needs to be fixed, and doing it together. But there is an unmistakable air of things unsaid.

It's a tension that wafts in between us at times, like a shifting fog. Never staying for long, but it hovers thick and heavy while it's there. It's interesting, because in a way it's also kind of a good thing. One thing we came to agree on during the long heart-to-heart (that I needed so badly a month ago) was that to be better to each other, we also had to be better to ourselves. Part of the silence that now prevails is just the two of us, each taking the time to look inside so we can better see what it is we are projecting to the outside - to each other.

I see that now. For the past two weeks, I've been looking at it very differently (and to my detriment). I realise that I had been acting like a small child, who opens one eye and peeks up from his morning prayers to check what the other kids are doing. I did my 'work' and when I was ready, I peeped up at him and got frustrated that his head was still bowed.

I huffed and puffed (in my own head, of course) about how he had retreated from me after he had said we'd do it together. All the time, I never stopped to think that perhaps I needed to just take him at his word and rather try keeping my own head down for a little longer and checking if I didn't still have stuff I needed to refine.

There's a road that we committed to when we had that talk - a road that we promised to travel together. For me to doubt the sincerity of his promise now would serve no purpose, especially when - in actual fact, his actions have shown only that he fully understands what I told him and that he knows what he needs to do.

I said before that all those titles were too big for me to hold on my own. I've told him that. He understood. So time to stop complaining. He's my full partner now, like I asked . It's ok if, every now and then, he just chooses to be a silent one.

Sick of Me (Happy New Year)

Learn to... be what you are, and learn to resign with a good grace all that you are not.  ~Henri Frederic Amiel

It's been a minute. Kinda scary actually. So much has been done, said, forgotten. To reflect on it all now, in hindsight, would be all too revealing. And the truth, as we all know, is often-times the bitterest pill of them all.

But, it's a new year. Fresh starts, clean pages and all that. So reflect we must.

By the time December hit, I was utterly exhausted. What a f*&#!ng year! I'm not afraid to say, I'm glad it's over. A cyber friend of mine asked an open question last month on Twitter. "How did you find 2009? Good, bad or ugly?" My response: "2009 was faultless. Me in 2009? Bad." And that is the heart of it. I was at the edge of some weird precipice last year (and I probably still am, considering 'last year' was a mere 8 days ago). Face-to-face with myself as a mother, as a wife, a career-woman, a friend, a whole person - for real and for the first time. The new me. And I didn't handle meeting her very well.

My blog-post history speaks for itself. Epiphanies and falls. That's the story of 2009 for me. So tedious. So much so that I don't even have the energy to fill in the gaps since my last post. Apart from Little Tyke coming back, everything that's happened since is just more of the same really. I will not even try to recount or even summarise the past few months' events.

Even to make a resolution for 2010 seems pointless - I know all I need to know and all I need to do. I've learnt and failed at it all already. So consistency is the way forward. It's the only way. If this is to truly be a new year, I must do new things.

I'm frankly sick of myself. Sick of knowing what to expect. Sick of expecting too little. I'm sick of seeing different sides of the same person pulling in different directions. Sick of losing control when I know I hold all the control. Sick of knowing better without doing better. Just sick of it!

Tonight, after work, I'm going to speak to Hubby. I'm sick of it. I'm laying it all down for him... every failing, every frustration. I want him to see me. I want to force myself to be seen. I'm sick of it. No more hiding from myself, no more running from the world. A few months ago, I would have been terrified. Perish the thought of being exposed - the horror, if anyone should see that I really haven't gotten it all together - not one bit. But now? Now, I'm just sick of it. I'm not ok. I don't want to pretend that I'm ok anymore. Wife, mother, career-woman, financial manager, head-cook, housekeeper, organiser and general household manager is too big a title for me to take on any more.

I'm sick of it. I want to do it. I wish to God I could do it, but I can't. I just won't anymore. It's destroying me and because of that, I will start destroying everything around me. I'm sick of it!

So that's how my new year will begin... with simply getting rid of the old shit. No resolutions, no future plans. Just a blank slate and a clear conscience. I figure it can only get better from here.