It’s disconcerting to find yourself living right through the middle of an attitude shift. “Growth,” I think they call it.
Last week, one of my Facebook friends shared a link to a post on boredpanda.com called “22 Adorable Before And After Pictures Of Animals Growing Up.” It’s here if you’re interested (and you should be), but if not, here is one of my favorites:
How does that tiny kitten become that huge fluffy creature? Who somehow apparently thinks it takes up no more space than when it was tiny? I’ve always kind of wished there was such a thing as a perma-kitten, because kittens are fun and adorable and cats, well, they’re great but not quite as great as kittens.
Funnily enough, as I get older, I’m realizing that I’d so much rather be a grownup. (Though I still feel uncomfortable using that label.) I don’t know if it’s accumulated life experience or a weird kind of wisdom that kicks in once you pass a quarter of a century, but one of the most important things I’m in the middle of growing through is the realization that I don’t have to let circumstances control me. I can analyze my feelings and actions and make appropriate choices. That sounds a little robotic, but it doesn’t feel that way.
Agonizing about not knowing what kind of writer I am or even want to be, feeling guilty for not writing, feeling directionless and guilty when I do sit down to write but instead check Facebook a zillion times in a habit left over from my college paper-writing days: these are life-sucking mind games.
But beginning a new creative co-endeavor with my fiancé, sitting with him and dreaming about possibilities, writing because I have a goal and the subjects practically jump themselves onto the screen, feeling so much excitement it almost becomes frightening: these are life-giving choices.
Yes, I think an attitude shift begins with choices. Well. I think it begins with a change in perspective, but it’s effected by the choices you make. I say this as someone who is frequently paralyzed by indecision. But look! That’s something I’m growing in, too.
Hesitating to call myself a writer or an editor: life-sucking.
Owning and honing passions, however volatile they are: life-affirming.
The thing about those photos is that they show the before and after: they don’t show the middle, painful, awkward stages. But most of life takes place in the middle stages, doesn’t it?
Admitting, to yourself or to other people, that you can’t possibly have it all together, because you are working hard at growing, and you don’t really even know if you want pancakes or an omelet so how are you supposed to decide what you want to do for the rest of your life: a life-affirming flooding of relief.
All shall be well, said Julian of Norwich. Now that I’m growing up at last, somehow I’m starting to really think it will be.
(Someone please smack me over the head with that last paragraph the next time I start whining.)
After graduating with an English degree, Amy (Allen) Frieson (’10) moved to New York City and spent several exhilarating years working in children’s book publishing. Now, she works as a career consultant and has much more time for writing, reading, wandering the city, cooking non-vegetarian meals (a new thing), dreaming about apartment renovations, and leading worship along with her husband at their NYC CRC.
