Am I Grown Up, Yet?

I wonder about the emphasis on the seriousness of "growing up." Some say it just means taking responsibility, but even sometimes, that isn't accepted as enough. Often, I feel as if I may have become less responsible as I've gotten older. I feel like the more I actually learn about life, the less I understand. There is so much to understand.

Then again, that suggests an endlessness of beautiful possibility.

But now they only block the sun. They rain and snow on everyone. So many things I would have done, But #clouds got in my way. I've looked at clouds from #bothsidesnow. #JoniMitchell #Utahmountains

A photo posted by Jonathan Inman (@jonathinman) on Mar 24, 2015 at 7:15pm PDT

What I have found striking about the picture above is that while it is paired with sobering lyrics that befit it, those mentioned characteristics of clouds brought with them something of magnificent beauty. So is life. Life is meant to be lived. Chances taken. Risks made. Life, itself, is a gamble. A constant state of growth and change, where the beauty is in the life that is lived, no matter how we're perceived--grown up, matured, or not.

There is value in "childlike" enthusiasm and curiosity, even if others do not always see it, or appreciate it.

Children should not have to grow up,
If they do not desire.
They should join together
To form a soprano choir.

They should create their own
Ever-youthful sports leagues
Or always study living things
With their same gust and intrigue.

They should not have to give away
Toys or things of the play matter
And always be allowed to leave
With veggies still on their platter.

They should cleave to imagination,
As though it is their life source,
For with it they can do anything,
Even pave a safari course.


Funny thing -- growing up --
For some try to do it,
But none, it seems, have been
Able to really prove it.

If we really became what
We first saw in grown-ups,
We'd have all the answers
And then never mess up.

We'd build that treehouse
in the strength of our fathers.
We'd care for that kitten
With the love of our mothers.

We wouldn't wander aimlessly
To find a destination.
We'd look steadfastly forward
With adulty concentration.


I'm not sure we do grow up,
As I stand looking at you all.
None match that perfection.
In fact, we're all quite small.

We're still afraid of dark places,
Though we've learned of new darkness.
We clamor, cry, and throw fits,
Fearing the world's starkness.

Sad. But this is our world.
We make it what we want
And fulfill our childhood dreams,
As we withstand life's brunt.

We still do what I've listed
In this poem's beginning,
And then we all count them
As our grown-up winnings.

Of that list, I enjoy
Imagination from the quill --
And we must keep a childhood something.
So, I will.

written Sunday, November 25, 2007, at 11:39 p.m.

and Thursday, February 26, 2015, at 7:47 p.m.

To be honest, I wasn't always sure why I was creating this blog. I didn't feel like I was sharing anything new and innovative. However, I find that as I've learned and explored the things I've shared, they were things I already knew but hadn't really comprehended. So, while many of those things were possibly obvious and agreeable to some people, I wonder how many of those people really understand them as deeply as they should.

In the process of writing this blog, I've learned a great deal about myself and life, while giving myself a useful writing habit that overran into my potentially-professional writing endeavors. Still, though this blog may have been only a small ripple, its explorations have been worth it. I have overcome fears and remembered that some of the excitement in life is found in not having the slightest clue where I am going. What an adventure and leap of faith! I am glad I've pursued it these past six months, though I had my doubts. And as they say:

If in doubt, DO!

Every task complete.
Mischief managed.