2004-07-03
Child? No...
hearing: Irish Hymn - Kevin Max
reading: Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
wearing: a distant, faraway look
Here I am, a young woman aged seventeen (and getting dangerously nigh to eighteen) who cannot comprehend this, and insists on viewing herself as a little girl child of twelve (that's awfully, scarily close to eleven point two five...).
In so many ways, I can see that I am hundreds and thousands of miles away from the twelve year old girl I once once. I hardly resemble her at all. Whether it be physically, spiritually, mentally, or emotionally. So why do I still see her when I look in the mirror?
Most times, I do not even feel that young anymore. Even when I feel foolish or childish, it is not the same as being a twelve year old girl, yet I still allocate those feelings and behaviors to that of a twelve year old.
And why shall I persist in viewing myself as a child? For a long time, I thought it was far more mature and wise to withold myself from claiming the title of adult before I was worthy of it. I thought I did better to fence myself into childhood. But by now, this has become ridiculous to do. When I step back and review myself, I realize how far over the threshold I have crossed into adulthood. I have grown capable of accepting its responsibilities, and have, finally, grown worthy of the title.
Childhood can no longer contain me. I feel myself rapidly evolving, growing and changing more every day, and I have finally come to the point where childhood has no room for me. It must be laid aside and replaced. I must cross into adulthood.
The only things holding me back now, are childish fears and doubts. The normal, common, widely experienced fear of finally growing up has fallen hard upon me, and binds me close.
But it's time to break the fear. It's time to change the mindset. It's time to grow up.
And I feel myself trembling at the edge of my biggest metamorphosis thus far. My smaller evolutions have been preparing me for this.
And I intend not to be afraid.
But with all this talk of feeling so very young and foolish, isn't there another point to bring up? Yes. An ironic contributing factor...
Oftener and oftener, I feel old. Very old and weary and worn. I have lived so short hitherto, compared to how long some live and how long I might live, and my life has been without extraordinary hardship. Nothing spectacularly bad has befallen me. My life has been no worse than the next child's person's.
But already, all lustre has run out of the world for me. All glitter and promise has already slipped and escaped from my fingers. I peer far, far ahead into the future, I gaze at every joy and despair which I may anticipate as of yet, and I can only sigh wearily. All I can see is futility and vanity.
But I have mentioned this so many times before. It is always so close and so painfully noticed and felt.
This isn't to say that I hate life though. Nay. It seems pointless and fruitless, until I measure it against God and His designs and what life is a preparation for. Then, I may enter into life with an earnestness and zeal, ever patiently impatient for its ends and onslaught of purpose.
The world still will tire me though. Life still does not shines on its own for me. Sometimes, it is a force to make it shine.
Oh yes, I feel so old for being so young still. And I feel foolish and silly for feeling so old when I am so young and so little tried in the world.
But I have observed much of it. I have studied much of it. All I have left is to live it. And from what I have percieved, I believe that current convictions will only be more solidly concreted with the passage of time.