What it Means to Be an Adult
I spent Thanksgiving with my dog. Maximus Raksha scarfed down his kibble, while I feasted on a bag of beef jerky and a can of CocaCola. Trying to shake an approaching piss poor mood of Turkey Day isolation I then went out for a bike ride, but had on the wrong darn tires and slid on the ice, hence smacking my helmeted head against the ground. Humph, darn it, yet it wasn’t too bad, just another moderate concussion which is nothing new for me. Approaching the festivities of Jesus’ birthday, things didn’t appear any brighter. Comprehensively as I spied New Year’s right around the corner, I grew more disheartened. The semblance was that of pure dread; a shortness of breath, like a slow dull knife was being pushed into the square of my chest.
For years by that time I contended with a shrinking tone of optimism, although I couldn’t absorb the totality of my reduction. My wrangles were not complicated by alcohol or substances, no not at all but more so I had pulled myself down, awhile performed a general disconnection from humanity. Well dang it, actually I’m not being totally honest. At that time precisely, just before Christmas, I found myself lower than low, you know: Confused, scared, rather hopeless, and lying face down on the floor of my lifelong emotional rock bottom.
With good intentions I confided in a few friends about my depression. But all that resulted was multiplied self-cynicism. Oh boy, for as far as I had moved into the woods and unplugged from technology for the sake of deep-work-peace-and-quiet, I then wanted to pull back even more. Totally bewildered and options slight, I attempted to gain my bearings. Think, think, think…where do I go now? Will any untried effort really carry me somewhere new? Is there any place elsewhere than I am now, hah…of course and rhetorically I was assembling a sort of riddle. Moreover then, my approach must be entirely alternative, different than all I’ve done before so to locate true and lasting emotional change, even to think oppositely of what seems to make sense in the moment, not a repetition of the same old shit.
Oh screw it all anyway, time to lay it on the line. First I identified there was no lower for me to go. Yup, although a few things were going my way, I couldn’t at all see them. I was without a doubt bottom floor, you know, basement level. Way down there it was dark. It was damp. It was cold. It was frightening. And although nothing existed beneath me but a slab of concrete and dirt, I was totally prepared to throw it all away in favor of no longer dealing with the reoccurring drama in my head. Pardon me while I refuse to jumble my words here. Although taking one’s own life is considered by some a selfish act and total cop-out, it is an option. I would be a liar if I said to have never given it any thought. Whereas recognizing what must be done, I prepared myself for the endeavor.
If there was any fruitful way out of this mess, I absolutely identified the necessity to turn inwards. So I did. My journal became both my confidant and guide, and I began to write it out. As mentioned elsewhere, all my adult life thus far I had been frozen in the emotional brain of a 17-year old. This was not a conscious manipulation; I just never grew up. I never felt like an adult. But then and there within my journal, early into the new year it happened, it just happened. I wasn’t trying to grow up, it just happened. Unequivocally gathering my things I transitioned into grownuphood, me now possessing a legitimate new lens to think through, a new lens to see through, and a brand new out of package lens through which to proceed. It was as close to a religious experience as I could have had without actually going there. For certain, gallons of the stress hormone cortisol got dumped out of my body, then left behind as I waltzed away taller and more confident than I’d felt in over 10 years. The sensation was verifiably ridiculous and factually, *sigh*, the words to attempt further explanation exist far beyond my diction. Wow, I was about to embark on perhaps the grandest journey of all.
Hah, somewhat then without surprise my body transitioned too, I got sick. Very sick. I caught the flu. It was horrible. As one week in bed turned into two, it got worse. I contracted pneumonia, although I didn’t know what was going on. After two weeks of misery I dragged my ass into urgent care, and left with a slew of strong meds meant to knock it out, along with instructions to rest. So I took the meds, and I rested. After a few days I started to improve a wee bit, but still lacked the strength to somedays even take the monster pup Maximus out for a short romp in the snow. This brings us up to current day, the third week of February, back from urgent care again yesterday with even more meds, blah…four weeks sick and stuck inside so far. Despite a lingering upper respiratory viral infection of sort (the medical team isn’t quite sure what’s amiss), let’s assume I’ll be just fine, which I am rather sure of, it’s not like I have congestive heart failure or something.
So onward… equipped with said lens and an altered outlook, aka this newfangled maturity, back now to the heart of the matter: What is it I am recognizing here, what does it mean to be an adult?
1. Attend my own experience. Perhaps the greatest concern of consequence I can hold is that of my own reality, meaning an alertness to it all. If I already possess all I seek, and indeed I do, then everything to be had exists nowhere else but in this moment. I will miss another 20 years looking back, looking forward, or being distracted by juvenile crap that in the end really doesn’t matter, that is unless I come alive in the present. I was going about life with a predetermined practice of sleep. Alertness, awareness, and consequence played no part in this charade…my common sense on vacation, my mindfulness at bay, my reality askew and camouflaged. That is, until I woke up to be cognizant of this newfound adulthood. Anthony De Mello in his book Awareness suggests that we assume the role of a scientist studying ants. Alike, ant farmers do not corral or brand their herd, they do not steer their flock, they try not to train their beasts, rather they observe. What a clear picture of attentiveness. I’ve been working on acutely tuning my awareness for almost twenty years now, but then by way of my new lens, it’s just happening. Alas a balance exists and for me it’s bringing down the intensity, focusing on the important while reserving some slot of time for the urgent, and widening my gaze to soak it all in. I catch myself now seeing the breeze roll through the trees, noticing smirks and smiles from across the room, calibrating the color of stranger’s eyes, and mesmerized by the glimmer of the night’s sky.
2. Seize the adventure of today. A major adult concern is time, because I cannot afford it. A preciousness looms over all, and it speeds by like a fighter jet. Things are more important now, more valuable, more meaningful, more fragile, and more real. What a spectacular chance of contest, this life to live. Yet without doubt one day will be my last, and should I assume tomorrow will ever be? Not meaning to sound bi-polar, or count down and charge by the minute but rather settle to find the beauty within the mundane, the simple, even knowing for fact the sun is shining behind the darkest of clouds. It’s attendance to the minutia, also the big picture which is not too soon painted over, as long as my consciousness doesn’t run off elestime. I refuse to let turmoil rule my remaining years as I have done so expertly in the past. I am letting go of the broken controls, and I am slowing to appreciate the occupation of minutes. Five years ago I bought a new walkaround day wallet. Besides its largeish size and sporty brown leather tone, a whimsical however profound message is stamped into its outer case. A warmth of magical proportions comes over me every time I notice the detail a rest in my right rear pocket. You’ve probably heard it before, the quote from this rather famous however juvenile character…To live will be an awfully big adventure ~ Peter Pan.
3. Be my best self. I’ve recently met someone I’ve never seen. It is me. Not like I was out to sea, lost. Or the best of me I tossed. I never expected any of it. I never knew. Factually never have felt real. Never did I factually feel. Unlike this anyway. This is something else, and here to stay. I’m different now I really am. Not waiting for if, not waiting for when. I’m living the best I have, times three. I’m living as my very best me. I am more than I’ve ever realized, and trying to better embrace this truth. Not in a dirty-ego kind of way, but along a healthy-ego sort. I can be more than my doubts have tried to make me believe. For certain I can execute upon my wisdom better. I can listen better, I can be a better father, a better brother, and a better friend. I can be a better citizen. I can be a better steward of the human condition, and a much better merchant of intentional living. Many of you will be thrilled that by way of this new lens, my legacy self-deflating descriptors have now fallen out of favor. Especially was my proclivity for terms like lowlife, worthless, and loser as I recounted my lifepath in the ADDICT book, but this language no longer resonates with the adult me. I have never honored myself before, ever, so this is part of the newness, now I do, now I do. And although the terms beginner’s mind and child’s mind are used positively with an openness for learning, growth, and discovery, my new cognition feels more exciting and opportunistic than these adolescent references. Certainly I will continue to face bumps in the road but I operate as such more confidently, putting my best self forward of all else.
4. We do not fail. The facts sit offstage. Laughing at it all. Somedays it’s hard to stand. We rise then take a fall. Yet to try, just to show. Says something to ourselves, something to the world that maybe only we know. That we will not give up, that the fight won’t win. We are not done, we are reconstructing to begin. Facing the grownup heart of the matter, I do not use the word ‘fail’. Instead I call it ‘learning’. Even when not reaching my intended destination, I learn something from the endeavor, something to help me get closer next time. If an attempt is made, if an effort put forth, if remaining curious, then I have accomplished something. Of course getting started is the hardest part, and initiating movement requires a huge commitment. Though once underway, I have already made great advancements. Even if just dreaming of gained experience, I am in motion. Alas I might wait a while, perhaps I start then stop, maybe I even take a multi-year break, but as long as I don’t quit, as long as I don’t give up, then I move closer towards my intention. Because every little thing, every person, and every single situation has something to offer me, so I accept all struggles and adversaries as my best teachers. Across decades I have built a better listening skills list which is shared within my book Lies Between Us page 168. And finally, I am even reminded by my dear pal the king of fun himself Mister Chip Chase from Canaan Valley West Virginia who recently said, “Somewhere in all this, (my current pneumonia / illness) there’s gotta be some kind of silver lining.”
5. Occupy the inner expanse. Apart from being my best self, there is an adjacent capacity for growth. Growth beyond known limits to make room for more. More of who and what I can be. All avenues are available for my exploration, even those routes marked closed. Whereas this one path may not work for others, nor be fruitful for me another time, I travel wherever and however necessary to maintain momentum. I do not stay, I grow, I grow by getting up to go. It’s an acceptance of responsibility for my mood, my behavior, my intentions, my actions, and my position in the arena of the world’s affairs- as I know them and can impact them. Clearly within my legacy adolescent operating system I assumed management of outcomes yet never really held ownership of my functionality. Hum, how do I better explain? It’s like I was a staff member coming and going, maybe even in charge of the joint and had keys to the place, but never held the loftiest attitude, you know, not like I owned the building. This is now the notion of me beanstalking: Literally expanding width-wise throughout my self-defined core oracle, meaning the advanced occupancy of my brain/heart/soul.
6. The Trifecta of Ugly. This is the most childish behavior surrounding my assumptions, judgments, and blame of others. Solidly, when I assume, I feel ugly. When I judge, I feel ugly. When I blame, I feel ugly, meaning ‘ugly’ as I look into the private emotional mirror. I know not anyone’s story, even if they have claimed to tell me everything. Alas not the majority of us seem to have figured ourselves out in large detail, hence the fact I cannot pretend to know what’s going on when viewing surface level behavior. So I try not to judge. I try not to blame. I try not to assume. Oh sure their superficial actions abound, and maybe I then desire for someone to stay out of my face while flailing their stupid shit all about, but I stop short of judging the person within. No matter how offensive their movements, I maintain grace that they are certainly going through something I have absolutely no idea about, nor could I. Thence, there is empathy. Empathy is not so-sad sorry-for-you placated sympathy. Empathy is not pretending to believe why others do what they do. Empathy is when I listen to taste their disruption, feel their pain, and stand witness to their experience.
7. It wasn’t you. Looking back at a dozen-plus romances that ended too soon, including two divorces and numerous other botched relationships, adultly I see the problem was me. My emotional brain found some trespass with them, and I created a divide. They neither changed nor errored, I did. Or rather my judgements of them changed, and once they were not living up to my expectations, when I felt unfairly put out, or cast aside, or marginalized, I left. I accept responsibility for my own stupid shit here, meaning my asinine behavior, whereas I expected someone to alter themselves to match my expectations, aka just, plain, stupid.
8. Offboard regret. This distinct concern of mine is also, one I cannot afford. Only a brief review is necessary to pinpoint areas of satisfaction misplaced by regretfulness. Minding appropriateness and time, I honor all howsoever might be undone or different. Perchance this sort out is just a meeting with self yet often there is more I could do. And if there is more I can do to invert such prickly pears, do I possess the ambition to once and for all drop said heavy emotional baggage? Maybe it’s time to eat some crow, could be I swallow the need to be right, or that I offer forgiveness, even for myself. Reasonably such turnarounds are planned, but the execution drags on past the time that is right. I stand fast to have made the best decision, knowing all I knew, and lining things up as it made optimal sense to me then. So no, I hold zero regret. I instead switch my energy to the beauty forthcoming, those speed-by moments that will be fumbled if not employing my undivided attention.
9. Befriend fear. Being scared as an adult is ok, perfectly ok, and I am thankful for both the provocation and the trial. Fear is the warning signal I should pay closer attention and not be so far removed. If able to give my total focus to something, well, this would be the right time to do so. I admire the fighting chance to be concerned amidst my confusion, move forward accompanied by my curiosity, then guided by my lived wisdom. Somewhere deep down is the strength to face the dragon, the courage to venture into his lightless cave, and even the forwardness to abandon the known in favor of the unexplained. Yet for sure if left alone the dragon observes no bounds, so I am careful to not misplace my sword and shield. It’s the delicate balance between the healthy-ego of all possibilities, and the vulnerability to view fear as a cathartic response to my struggles. Natural as natural can be, for me to face facts and stare them down helps me move past. When I nametag it bad or try to fight it, I give it power, only then making matters worse. Speaking with a dear mentee of mine today Kyle, he claimed one of my shares is beginning to resonate with him. I had said, “We can’t move past our pain until we knock it apart enough to look down upon it”. It is not the fear that drags me down, it’s how I respond that causes hope to drown.
10. No one is coming. Yes although I have enjoyed blissful years alongside girlfriends, even two amazing wives, and still enjoy a slew of pals all over the world, I make no bones about it: I expect no rescue. Several neighbors in the last few weeks brought me food when I needed it, without being asked, and even refused reimbursement. Thank you Kevin and Lillian and Pete for the rare gift of just showing up. Meanwhile, when otherwise stranded I surely know better: Time to get busy building a raft out of driftwood. When injured I have to clean my own wounds. I anticipate no one to pick up after me or do something just because I don’t want to. My concerns shift and my blind eye turns bright, picking up that little thing that everyone else walks past, even on the street. If lacking the guts to speak up or put up or show up or make a mend, that’s on me. This is not self-sacrifice, abandonment, or coming to terms with any degree of hardship, rather this is wearing the true suit of self. Whereas cold I try to huddle in, awhile accept a coat if offered. The basement is flooding oh no, better turn off the water and start bailing. Climb on the roof in the rain and patch that pesky hole. Walk three miles home when the car breaks down. Oh sure call the roofer, dial AAA, and stick out my thumb, but don’t expect for this shit not to happen because it will. It will, maybe daily for decades it will, and how can I possibly think to imagine otherwise? Do not oppose it, do not be surprised by it, try to be at least a little better prepared for almost anything, wait for nothing nor no one, and live life abundantly.
1. Attend my own experience
2. Seize the adventure of today
3. Be my best self
4. We do not fail
5. Occupy the inner expanse
6. The Trifecta of Ugly
7. It wasn’t you
8. Offboard regret
9. Befriend fear
10. No one is coming
For me, this is what it means to be an adult.
Love you all, Bird out.
