At one point or another, we reach the sharp turn to adulthood. We are wild with hope, untainted by “real world” thinking. Everything can be as our Instagram feeds portray. If we are fresh out of high school, we have barely known failure. If we are in college, we live in a world of lofty ideas.
But we must take the sharp turn into adulthood somehow. In other words, we do get the 40-hour job, we pay the electric bills, we feed ourselves. We take responsibility for ourselves, and we dare to take responsibility for others. And we fail. Often. The turn is too sharp, too real, too dank with reality. Some never make the turn. The rest are stuck with a learning curve that humbles you.
I've been making that turn for awhile now. I have a blackboard in our apartment: on Monday, I chalk out all the week’s responsibilities, and I spend the rest of the week tallying up the score. And I can’t help but wonder if I am a completely different person than when I first started. Just a couple years ago, I went around asking people what they thought of whimsy. I rode strangers' horses. Now I take notes on how they approach work, how they use Google drive.
I think what I am wanting is creativity. I don’t want to crumple my life into a ball and start all over, as if a fresh start would make everything better. But I don’t want to manage my life either, as if my main goal is making sure everything stays intact. Maybe it’s a process, but I feel I am only managing my life. I don’t often feel creative. If at first I found delight, or the sheer joy in being alive at all, I then found responsibility, the demands life makes of you. I am now searching for adulthood's sweetspot: creativity, where delight and responsibility get hitched and bring all kinds of good things in the world.
photo cred: me, snitches