Perhaps the most misunderstood curse we can utter.
Children fantasise about being ‘grown-up’. Being grown up means they become the boss and can buy as many ice creams as they want.
Our perspectives change when we grow up. The authority that was once our parents is subtly replaced with guilt, worry and remorse. We find ourselves in charge of our own nebulous destiny with only rather patchy guidance and conflicting advice. Even those who think they know what they want rarely make it past middle age without wondering if they haven’t just screwed everything up.
We inherit this responsibility. It arrives, fully established and demands answers to questions we haven’t thought to ask yet. A career might help. This at least keeps you busy for long enough until you gain the bare minimum wisdom and try to figure out what you are meant to be doing. It might be only when you have established a family do you reflect on just how complicated life is, particularly when confronted with the simple wisdom of children.
Children know what they want. It might be terribly unhealthy or actually impossible, but that doesn’t concern them. How can we transform from such confident beings into neurotic ditherers in the span of a couple of decades? What subtle influence happens to us that clearly delineates us both mature and neurotic?
It’s all to do with thinking. Thinking arises from speech. Speech is nothing more than mutually agreed noises that impart some form of meaning. Initially we learn that a certain pattern of noises will attract the attention of our mothers, or fathers. Later, when our caregivers want our attention this is associated with another pattern of noise, and eventually we become named. We learn to repeat and associate, and now can natter for our own ice cream. Sometimes we natter too much, and eventually learn to suppress our vocal impulses, which internalises them and creates thoughts.
With thought we can listen to our own vocalisations without expressing them and gradually we develop our internal dialogue. Although it might be commentated that we are a thoughtful child, we still are not yet adult, but we are getting close.
Our transition occurs when we learn to become concerned about our own welfare. This is forced upon us in cases of extreme trauma, particularly if at the hands of those who are meant to be protecting us. We recognise, sooner or later that there is a thing, among all the other things, that is the most important, ourselves. When we recognise this thing and have evidence that it is our responsibility to look after it, our whole world shifts and now we must learn to think about this thing all of the time.
Beforehand we were blessed with never conceptualising this thing we call self. Now, we must worry about how it looks, how it acts, whether it’s loved or not, if its going to survive! We must not only be concerned about this thing right now, but also how things are going to be for this thing in the future. It becomes quite a burden.
We rarely notice that this thing isn’t real. It is simply a concept. But it seems both real and very important. We can make ourselves sick worrying about this thing, or we might worship it and not stand for any criticism of it, even if this criticism is well intended. Every thought is now preoccupied in doing the right thing for this thing.
No wonder we cannot remember what life was like before this unwelcome intrusion. We even project ideas about this thing into the past, ensuring its subtle grasp on our minds. Yet, if asked to point to this thing, we cannot really find it. It is the most tragic and ultimate hypnotic trick.
What a terrible curse this growing up business is!
