Dichotomy

I used to see things so clearly.

When my parents quarreled, shouted, fought, fretted, or stressed, I used to ask: "Why?" And little smarty-pants know-it-all that I was (am), I used to suggest simple solutions/mitigants for every problem that surfaced. Whereas there was a rich spectrum of grey for me on many "moral" issues, for most other things in life, I saw things in startling black/white contrast. It was either this or that. Simple.

My parents used to respond: "You won't understand. The adult world is more complicated."

And they were right. I didn't understand. What was there to complicate your life? You want something or you don't. You do it this way or that. If you don't like it, don't do it.

At the grand old age of twelve, I remembered feeling very clear-headed. I believed that there was no more real "growing up" to do. Yes of course I was going to continue growing physically. Yes of course I was going to have new experiences that I had never experienced before... love, working, marriage, sex, kids clearly being key life-changing milestones and learning opportunities. All that I saw clearly and accepted. But at the same time, I believed that I was old enough to be able to think, analyse, comprehend all the important things in life, and that I was as wise I would ever be.

And to be honest, I don't think I was mistaken in my belief.

I saw things which much greater clarity than I do now.

I knew what I wanted: to travel. leave the country, behold with my own eyes all the wonders of the world, drink deeply from the fountain of knowledge that was life. I had a vision. And no way, plan, or idea of how to get there. But life was still simple to me, because I knew what I wanted (fact 1), and I knew I did not know how to achieve it (fact 2), all I needed then was to find a way to connect the dots. Simple.

In contrast, now, when I have achieved so much of what I wanted, and have very visible means to achieve my remaining objectives, when life should be oh so simple—the golden apple is lying there for the picking, I find that I find ways to complicate matter in my own mind. What should just be a matter of taking steps 1 2 3 to get from A to B, suddenly becomes: should I take step 1A or 1B, should I do it now or later, do I really want B or maybe C is a better option which might lead to D, or how about playing a different game altogether? Maybe I don't want to be playing Snakes-and-Ladders at all, but would really rather be playing Monopoly!

The ten-, twelve-year-old me wouldn't understand me know. My younger self would furrow her brow, tilt her head to the side and ask now-me quizzically: "Why?"

Hell, sometimes I don't understand now-me. In my occasional (increasingly rare) moments of lucidity, I am completely baffled: "Why?"

I've often said that I don't feel like an adult. I don't feel responsible, weighed down, serious, sober enough to be an adult. I'm confused and mad and happy and feel more like a child play-acting at being grown-up. But recently it has percoloated through my consciousness that that is beginning to be untrue. I feel quite possibly adult. I guess that's because I've finally lost enough vision, lost sight of what truly matters in life to finally merit being called an adult.

I still believe that children have the clearest vision. They can be highly intelligent, and know how to cut to the chase in the simplest, most elegant of ways. Grown-ups muddy things up unnecesarily by having too many other wants, or nice-to-haves which have nothing to do with their fundamental happiness. There is more keeping-up-with-the-Joneses going on than keeping up with your own dreams.

I need to get laser eye treatment.