I remember, I remember

I miss simplicity. I remember when my greatest worry was if I would really get a spanking for walking passed the deep ditches near our drive even though Mom couldn’t know. She did. I did. There was almost relief even in the pain because it showed that the world made sense, it did what was expected- it followed the rules. Granted, not all people had childhoods like mine, but there was a comforting predictability midst all the changes of growing up. I remember when the world was black and white, and not a myriad of grays; when saying ‘I love you’ didn’t have to be explained or doubted (and never forgotten), just accepted; when I knew my purpose: I was going to be an astronaut, a writer, a lawyer, a missionary to the deep jungles of Africa where I would be martyred at a young age (so I wouldn’t have to live beyond 45- which was old), and…okay, it changed, but in each time I knew what I was going to do or be, I knew my purpose with out doubt in that moment. Like a broken record, like a dog chasing its tail… purpose and me. Round and round we go, over and over again. Then I grew up. Grew up? I’m still doubtful about that, but…wait, see there? I’m doubtful. Aha! Anyway, being classified an adult has shown me how little I know, how little is certain, how few rules are followed, and that the universe does not make sense and can never ever remotely fit in a nutshell. In some ways it is a relief. I lived in a narrow world that was only partially real and as a result judged others by that narrow standard. But there was always hope and trust. Maybe I exchanged too much when I left childhood behind. Perhaps I was meant to hold on to those beautiful things and only set aside the naivety and pre-conceived ideas but instead I let the whole thing go. The good news: it isn’t over yet.