Snapshots of truth
Afew days ago, I was being sentimental about turning 28. In my teen years, 28 was the age I looked at as the official gate into adulthood. It is the age that you start thinking about your adult achievement checklist and crossing out events that should have happened by that time like having a steady income and a car.
As I was thinking about my checklist, I was serendipitously brought back to earth by the book There’s Something You Should Know About Me by the school Center for Possibilities. The book is a compilation of essays from their high school students with learning disabilities taught in their journal class by their writing coach Tweet Sering. The essays were written from questions like “What is your perfect day?” or “What’s your dream conversation with your parent?” posed to them in class. Each tween and teen have telling and touching things to say to their readers as they reveal that “maturities go only as far as a number” as one of the student writes to his parents. They talk about the thrill of speed racing, the wish of having a filmmaking class, the joy of finishing a Twilight novel, and overcoming dyslexia.
After reading these insights, you realize that growing up can be a thorny road at any age. As Tweet Sering describes the years of one’s youth, she tells her readers that being a teen isn’t a waste “because all that struggle isn’t drama, it’s not shallow, juvenile, self-indulgent attention-seeking, it’s real pain. And, boy, do you know it.” Yes, the teen years definitely toughen you up and I would like to add that any stage in life is a journey in its own way.
It is all a matter of how you cope with it. You can write a journal like the kids in Center for Possibilities as an unflinching and biased confidante. You can share your joys and sorrows with friends or tell them to a shrink. As for me, There’s Something You Should Know About Me has supported my life view to not sweat the small stuff or overwork the drama of expectations. You can write down your road map in a journal and go back to see how far you’ve gotten on track or off it. It won’t always be perfect. So whatever the outcome in the end, you must practice the lost art of appreciation and enjoy how far you’ve gone or at least at how unpredictable life is.
So, to 2011, I promise that I won’t fret as I blow out my candles. All I can do is pray, plan and enjoy the ride. Life is certainly uncertain. Yet, with the invisible good things in front and ahead of me, it will definitely be awesome.
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