On maturity.


            Maturity is an elusive thing, much like purity. As we grow up, we are expected to be mature; some of us aiming to be just that, while others avoid it as if it were an illness. Some of us even believe that maturity comes packaged with advancing age.

            I must confess that I at least hoped that maturity came packaged with advancing age, because nowhere in my head was there a serious thought that equaled “it’s time for me to become mature,” around the time when my age seemed conducive to this condition.

           There are many different thoughts and opinions on what constitutes maturity. Some say that it’s responsibility, others say that it’s independence, others say it’s how you deal with people on an emotional level, while others say that it’s parenthood…the list goes on and on of what maturity means to different people.

            Aside from my opening statement that maturity is elusive and the many other things I feel are maturity, I would like to add my own idea of what equals this much-labored after virtue:

            Maturity is knowing that, ultimately, you will always be just a little bit immature.

An adult's gotta do what an adult's gotta do

Whenever I accomplish a lot during the day, I truly feel like I'm a step ahead, a level higher than the me who doesn't. As a procrastinator, I always get a high from finding myself getting up and doing the things I need to do, especially when I really don't feel like it.

There is something to be said about these moments when I feel as though a more productive soul has taken possession of my body and gotten me going on tasks I normally find so daunting, that I perpetually put them on the back burner, reaching a point where I just scrap the entire thing, whatever it is. There are more abandoned projects than completed ones in my project chest, and nothing makes me feel worse about myself than going through that chest and seeing just what a self sabotager I am, and have been throughout my life.

As a person who wants to be a writer, I obviously keep a filled-to-the-brim folder on my computer called "Writing." At first glance, one would think that I am a writing machine, I just write, write and write some more, completing one piece after the other, whether it be an opinion column, a review of something, or a piece of short or long fiction. But let me tell you that that is not the case. Nothing is further from the truth, actually. My writing folder may be full, but it's a testament to how little successful writing I actually do, and nothing offers a clearer view of how my Attention Deficit Disorder affects my potential with anything, not just writing, as this folder I speak of.

Regardless, I am pretty sure that what's taking place, this ability to just get up and do the things I really don't feel like doing is not a case of possession, no, but rather a case of maturity. When you're immature (or at least when I was immature) you have this crazy idea that you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, and although there is some truth to that, life, the real kind, doesn't care whether you want to do something or not, you have to do what you have to do. Period.

So, today I patted myself on the back for accomplishing the things I need to do in order to live a good life, and have a bright future as an adult, mature woman who works hard and gets what she wants. Nothing is quite as motivational as that.