graduating adults?

I was talking with some college classmates recently when one of them said, "Guys-- we're seniors of adulthood!"

Sadly, it's not the kind of senior that gets us discounted admission to movies and festivals (in fact, now that our student IDs have worn off we're just getting used to paying full admission for the first time). It is to say, if we had started undergrad the year we finished it, we would be "commencing" right about now.

If you ask me, we're still commencing. I'm still learning how to handle myself, and life throws new things at me all the time. I'm always starting something new: moving to new digs, starting work for a new client or in a different position, making new friends, taking ceramics (starting in about two weeks), visiting new places, getting married in the fall... And I know my classmates are moving, having babies, starting new jobs, getting married, starting masters and doctorate degree programs, finishing med school... The range of experiences we've tried our hand at is astonishing. And we have become all too familiar with the flip sides of these things: breaking up, quitting jobs, leaving our home cities.

I'm glad for that; I tend to get bored easily if nothing changes. Comfort is my nemesis. I'm the kind of person that frantically creates tasks when the end of my to-do list comes into view. (I'm working on that...)

What makes it hard to deal with sometimes is that these "new things" I'm taking on seem so ordinary. Like I shouldn't struggle so much to get a handle on them: new work in my same company; a new name for the same relationship. I guess I had hoped, a quarter of the way through my life, to have figured more of this stuff out by now.

That said, my latest task? Give myself a break sometimes!

When friends come to me struggling through a degree, or a rough breakup, or a new job, I don't say, "Stop crying, we've been through this before. You should have this down pat by now." 

So why would I hold myself to that unrealistic, harsh, and unhelpful standard? It takes the joy out of the "figuring out," and devalues the amazing progress I have made and what I have accomplished.

Besides that, we can't compare ourselves to each other. We are all different, and wonderfully so. When someone posts an engagement on Facebook, we don't see the mundane aspects of the relationship (i.e. all day, every day), or the relationships that have ended so this one could begin. When someone posts a graduation photo, we don't see the all-nighters and exams; nor do we see the celebratory drinks. And why should we feel worse about ourselves for not finishing med school if we never even wanted to be doctors?

Perhaps hardest for me to face, but most powerful, is that I will make mistakes. Not every life lesson ends with an achievement; many of them are learned by screwing up, by getting lost or, unfortunately, by causing pain to myself or others. It sounds cliche, but I am now learning the reality of this fact more tangibly than ever before.

And it's freeing! Hopefully, the risks we take are calculated, so the messes we make are the kind that can be cleaned up. But if we are always afraid to make them, we will never move from this place, this moment, this state of mind.

It's inevitable: the world changes; we change; relationships and situations change. The years pass, and we move and we learn and we come and go from each other's lives, and maybe come back again... 

I, for one, am always working toward something, always building something. I am writing again because those "baby steps" never get bigger. Every day is another set of (sometimes frustratingly tiny, sometimes victorious) baby steps. It's a theme and a mantra in so many areas of my life, and I need the reminder to find joy in the figuring-out. I don't want to take these steps in isolation. I want to document them, work through them, share them.

And I miss the conversations that have sprung up around this space over the years. I write for myself, but I also write for us, for the world. Always moving, always turning.

I hope you'll join me for another set.

<3

the last post: a commencement address

For the last post I thought about writing a reprise of the first post, an excuse to celebrate.

But when I went back and read it again, it was instantly clear that this, in its simplest sense, would not satisfy me. I don't know why I am surprised, but it felt less relevant. It is not what is needed now.

But it was originally written as a commencement speech. And, lo and behold, we are in the throes of commencement season. And this is a commencement of sorts...

So, given my timeless love for commencement addresses, here is my address to the Second Set of Baby Steps Class of 2014!



Let me preface this by saying that by no means do I expect us to be done walking these particular baby steps. I suspect that life comes in circles, of confidence and insecurity, of beginnings and endings, and that any of us may find ourselves retracing some steps at any point in our lives. This isn't a bad thing; there is comfort in familiarity, and we can only hope that some things get easier the second time around!

I also have few hopes of avoiding cliches in this commencement. Cliches were something I was determined to avoid the last time around, and giving advice is another. It would have been disingenuous, I thought, to presume to have any answers. Which says a lot about where I was at the time, metaphysically.

What I hoped to leave my audience with in May of 2011 was courage, and permission to enjoy the uncertain days to come. Because this is what I needed to hear. I was overwhelmed with uncertainty and the overwhelming message of the time was, "You will do great things." Not exactly the best combination, and I harbored a lot of resentment toward different people and systems and institutions because of it.


Of course we need courage and good humor now as much as ever, but there are fewer loose ends in my life now, fewer surprises, and I guess I am getting used to the long-term insecurity of being alive and maintaining my middle-class status.

I think that is an important message for graduates: life isn't fun and games, and a lot of it is out of our control. But we are the ones who choose how we approach it, which parts to focus on, which parts to accept and foster. This, I believe, is the difference between a happy person and an unhappy one, and this is where courage and good humor come in handy. And maybe faith as well. The courage to do what we need to do, to overcome hesitations and sally forth into the unknown; the good humor to rise from a particularly nasty fall, especially when everyone is watching; and the faith to believe in ourselves, in what we are doing and the paths we are on.

So here is my hope now: that no matter what happens, we will never let the world steal our souls or crush our spirits; that we never give up on happiness, on the power of good to win out, if only in small ways.

I hope we keep dreaming, and that we put work into bringing these dreams a little bit closer to fruition, even if it takes our lifetimes and our children's lifetimes to happen.

I will continue to pray for peace, in the world and in all of our hearts.

I hope we never give up on finding beauty in the world, and if it ever seems like a hopeless cause, that we set ourselves to the task of creating some.


We have to be committed to our best life, the best versions of ourselves. Nothing happens, or works, unless we choose it, stubbornly and decisively: not a successful relationship (with human, god, or animal), not a dream job, not a delicious homecooked dinner, not a single post on this blog, or its graceful finish. The things that are important, and meaningful, and worth living for - those things are not mistakes. They cannot be mistakes.


This is not happily ever after. It's not a happy ending. Life is not that clear-cut. The story doesn't end just because the narrator stops telling it (or pauses to catch her breath). It just calls on the readers for a little imagination, to bring it to life in other ways, beyond the back cover.

Please, readers, graduates, baby step-takers, President of the Board - breathe life into this life. Breathe life into the steps you take beyond this grand finale, beyond the pomp and circumstance.


I know I will.

Until we meet again...
xoxo
Clara

posted from Bloggeroid