Thoughts on Growing Up

I often wonder, is it more beneficial to be good at being human or more simply to be a good human being? Is there a difference? Is human existence bad or good? Or both? And who am I to offer an answer to any of these questions? All I know is that I am perfectly qualified to ask them. As far as I can tell, I am not definitely good, and I am not definitely bad. Is this what it is to be human?

I was recently offered a chance to start over, with a clean slate; I went to college. Right before I left, I was spending a night out with my high school friends, saying see you later, because, of course, this goodbye is only temporary. I wanted to point out to them that the future isn’t set in stone, and even if it is, there’s no way to know if we will see each other again. I kept this thought to myself. Tonight was all about see you later.

We were driving out to the beach to see a meteor shower that supposedly should occur at 11 o’clock. It was about ten thirty, and we were speeding to the coast; we weren’t the best at planning ahead. This excursion was more spur of the moment. It was me, Patrick, Carly, Cedrick and Alex.

On the way there we were talking about growing up; none of us really wanted to. Alex went on a tangent about youth and being born again and blah blah… No one was really listening to him, what with the radio playing Gambino and tired teenage chatter, but I was listening.

Now I can’t remember his exact words, but they were something along the lines of this;

We don’t have to grow up. That was the lugubrious theme suspended over the night and here he was, claiming that we don’t have to grow up, no matter how often we think we should. We were all eighteen and older, had jobs, made mistakes, had low self-esteems and a burnt out childhood light. After all we've been through and the terror we felt over entering a world with no parents, no guidance, and no easy way out, Alex is in the back seat claiming that we don’t have to grow up.

I know for a fact that humans are both good and bad. I am human, and everyone else in the car that night is human. Those people are my closest friends. I keep them around because I am sure that they are good to me. But I know that I have hurt every one of them in some way and they hurt me as well.

Humans hurt and heal. Who we are is determined by which side we choose to act on.

Society can label us as adults, but the act of growing up is to finally decide who we are, and that will come on our own time. I thought I’d get to college and finally know what path to choose. I've been here two weeks and all I came with was a small, not-well-thought-out plan; get a job, go to school, get my life together.

The last bit, I found out today, is not something that you can just slap onto a checklist.

We arrived at the beach and Alex, Cedrick and I stripped to our underwear and ran to the water.

I couldn't see where the water started and the shore would end, but I kept running. The cool night air was incredible and caught the three of us in some strange and unexpected high. The splashing of water hit my body abruptly and it was surprisingly warm enough to trip over the surface and submerge myself under the water.

This act was the epitome of childhood; unnerving and naked and crazy, but the water cloaked us and kept us safe from a chilling wind that Carly and Patrick suffered through back on the shore.

I was the only one to see a meteor that night; it shot through my line of vision and disappeared just as quickly. I shrieked with excitement.

The three of us that shared that experience left with a new understanding. The difference between childhood and adulthood are not dependent on your age or how much time you've spent walking the earth; it depends on the choices you make, good and bad. Do you stay on the shore or run out into the water? Do you speak up and say good-bye, or hold onto the see you later?