Did you ever think being an adult would look like this?
When I was 6 years old I was going to be a lawyer. When I was in year 12 I was going to be an actuary. I’m nearly 24 years old now, and I never even went to uni (properly).
I can wash my clothes, cook my food, and make a bed nice as you please.
But I’m still not an adult yet.
I can make a woman come as many times as I like, do my taxes, and talk politics if I need to. I know about health insurance, have had a business, managed offices for charities and gave up drinking and the party long, long ago.
And I am still a child.
I am, however, as interested now as I was as a 6 year old boy in how to ‘adult’ properly, and I’ve not yet made as much progress as I might have, thanks to the lure of the party many years ago, the open road not long after that, and the endless temptation of women thereafter – all of which I let stop me from doing what must be done.
But who cares about me. You care about you. And you, like me, could probably do with a Marauder’s Map for how to be an adult and skip the excruciating gnawing of trying to find your way in life with no idea how you got where you are or how to get where you’re going. .. The irony of a children’s book reference in a piece on how to adult is not lost on me *wry smile*
All my life I insulated myself from responsibility. I never took out loans, never did anything that would tie me to any one place and never committed myself to anything truly long term. And instead I searched. I tried to find meaning in every nook and cranny and I delved into everything with enthusiasm including spirituality, activism, drugs, communes, backpacking and reading widely. In reality, I found very little apart from an elaborate story of world travel that I used to perpetuate the problems I’d gone looking to solve.
Let me tell you from first hand experience, what you’re looking for isn’t in South East Asia, it’s not at the top of the Eiffel tower, it’s not between the legs of a Parisian, either. It’s not on red double decker buses, it’s not in music festivals, it’s not in The Power Of Now, it’s not in sex. It’s not in sex. It’s not in sex. It’s not in sex. It’s not in sex. (It’s not in celibacy, either – although it doesn’t hurt along the way)
Where is it? I don’t know. But I do know that it’s not coming to me acting like a child, and it will only come to me when I step into my manliness and embrace what it is to be truly grown up. To take on some responsibility. To be self-reliant. To not borrow money. To not need to. To get my effing P’s. To get a house. To make it a home.
I have also recently learned that it wont come to me while I’m coming to it. Nothing you chase ever gets caught and kept. Truly. A flower doesn’t chase a bee, a flower blossoms and the bee comes, my teacher often says. So this is the access. To blossom.
What does blossoming look like in your life? Perhaps it’s to stop batting your eyes and expecting a man to solve your problems and make everything okay. Perhaps it’s to give up your independent women act and learn to trust and love a man and honour him as the man he can be for you. Maybe it’s to stop being mummy’s little boy. Maybe it’s to move out of home. It could be to get a financial plan in order, or to give up drinking. It could be anything. Whatever that thing you’re thinking of right now – that’s probably it.
So.. we’ve got work to do, Major Tom.
Having stripped away bad food, alcohol, drugs, supplements, prescriptions, caffeine, smoking, sex, veganism (my most tightly coveted attachment), my girlfriend, friends that do not serve, Facebook, Instagram, modelling (for the most part), my music library, all but what was necessary of my wardrobe, porn, masturbation, self-help books, Landmark courses .. I’m feeling pretty fucking bare. I’m not sure that this is what being an adult looks exactly like for everyone, but for me this is it. Getting my life together. Doing it NOW.
More soon, the struggle is real.