Tag Archives: old

You’re Too Young!!! When Should We Let Kids Be Adults?

“You simply don’t get to be wise, mature, etc., unless you’ve been a raving cannibal for thirty years or so.” –Doris Lessing

Hello friend,

I used to have a level-headed niece who I trusted to make sound life decisions.

As a 19-year-old college student bursting with potential, she struck me as independent and driven to carve out a unique path that would often–especially in the next decade or so–find her traveling the world alone to explore and share her talents and passions. Though she had had some serious romantic relationships in her past, she swore that it was not in the cards for her to “settle down” with anyone until she had lived out some of her dreams and established who she was as a real adult. I nodded my whole-hearted approval.

Then she turned 20 and got engaged in the space of a month.

What do I have now? And what can I say???

What can we really say to people we love–or anybody, really–when their life choices seem foolish to us?

I suppose part of my personal strategy for this dilemma works its way out in letters to you. I take most every issue that the average person wrestles with–politics, spirituality, family, money, social issues, dreams, relationships, and on and on–and hash them out in my journal, then write out my experiences and conclusions in these letters for anyone to read.

Not that I expect the people in my life to stay up-to-date on Journal of You just so they know how I feel about their life choices. But the actual writing process–both in my own journals and in these letters to you–has helped me to clarify my positions and given me a level of comfort in expressing them. So, when a topic comes up in conversation in the course of the day, I generally feel quite confident sharing my take.

At any rate, the habit of putting my stances out into the public sphere makes any sort of “approval” or “disapproval” I have of anyone’s life choices feel more general, not so personal. Like with marriage, I would hope that if I ever have a conversation with my 20-year-old niece about it, she would not take my position as a personal attack on her. Because let me be perfectly clear: the idea of people–I was tempted to say “kids,” but I caught myself–getting married (to say nothing of having children) in their early twenties seems absolutely foolish to me.

I think of myself at 20–or even 23 or 25 or 28–and I was so far away from knowing who I was and what I valued most. I had morals. I had opinions. I had passions, hopes, and dreams. I might even have been described as level-headed. But evolved enough and prepared to wisely choose my mate for life? Heck no!

My wife tells of the time that she and her college love were on vacation in Las Vegas and momentarily considered getting married before deciding against it. She laughs now at her luck, convinced that she would be miserable (or, more likely, divorced) if they had gone through with it.

But be clear: I am not just basing this on my personal path. I get that just because I wasn’t ready to marry in my early twenties–or late twenties, for that matter–that doesn’t mean no one could be. One of the benefits that comes with living for a while is that you get to witness a much bigger sample size when it comes to testing out your theories. Like most people, I know lots of people who married young. Many are still married. That fact does not sway my opinion at all.

And it is not that I have just come around to this idea in my forties, seeing people two decades younger than me as kids (of course, because I can’t be old!). No, growing up, I could never understand how my parents got married at 20 and 24, or later, how my older brother got married just out of college. I think I felt it most when my buddies started getting married, because I knew just how immature they were (did their spouses?). As with marriages at all ages, some have lasted, others haven’t. Some are probably blissful; others probably miserable, most somewhere in between. And again, just because it has worked out that way, my take on whether it was the right thing to do to marry young does not change.

Why, though? Why shouldn’t the failures of the older, “more mature” crowd dictate my opinion, causing it to skew more favorably to the early twenties cohort? I suppose that, for me, it has more to do with what I see them as missing out on when they “settle down” so young. It is all that personal development/figuring out who you are/building independence/learning by mistakes (and silliness)/understanding what you are getting into kind of stuff.

I think of the twenties as a time for all of that fun, growth, and inner and outer trailblazing. And I know that almost everyone who embraces and passes through that magnificent gauntlet of a decade comes through it quite a different animal. Different interests. Different dreams. Different relationships. I tend to think that that evolution gets stunted in people who marry so young. They evolve, but in a muted way, leaving room for more longing and regret later. It is like how older people with kids tend to think of people without kids: no matter how free and fun the childless people’s lives seem, there is nothing that could convince the parents that their own lives would be richer and better without kids. They almost can’t help but feel a bit (or a lot) bad for the childless. I have that same “You are missing out on something you can’t duplicate with other stuff” sense when it comes to people who marry without getting to experience the bulk of their twenties unmarried and childless.

So what do I do with this strong opinion? Not much, really. As an uncle, I have been known to share my opinions with my nieces and nephews as they mature. I tell the kids to explore themselves and their options in their twenties, and to not marry young. Not that it has had any effect so far: my oldest niece and nephew are 23 and already married or engaged, and my aforementioned 20-year-old niece will wed within the year. (Has any generation ever listened to their elders???) So I settle for a nudge to my own kids–now 8 and 10–when we get the wedding announcements of their cousins. They say in shock, “Cousin X is getting MARRIED???” And I say, “I know–crazy, right? She is very young to make that kind of commitment. Remember that when you are that age.”

It is similar to the way I pass on to them my considered–and journaled-about–opinions about things like how many children people should have and how old they should be when they have them. When they ask why they don’t have more siblings, I say something like, “Americans–including us–use a TON of the world’s energy and natural resources per person. Much more than our fair share. The planet is running out of these things AND being damaged by our overuse. So, for me, it didn’t feel very responsible to have more than two kids. Does that make sense? You can think about that when you are old enough to have kids (probably when you are in your thirties).”

When they ask why their cousins or friends have bigger families, I just say, “Those were the choices their parents made. Everyone sees the world differently, and everyone gets to make their own choices. Your job is to learn as much as you can about the things you have to decide so that you can become wise. Then you have to think about who you are and the kind of person you want to be. Your answer will come to you. Then you let everyone else make their own decisions, and be kind and respectful to them even if they do it differently than you. We are all trying to do our best, even if it doesn’t look that way.”

Because I don’t actually care enough–despite my strong opinions–to “judge” my nieces and nephews, or anyone else. Of all people, given the life I have led, I have no business (or interest) in making people feel bad for their lifestyle choices. I want people to unapologetically make their own decisions and be exactly who their soul calls out for them to be. (I think that highlights a crucial difference between being opinionated and being judgmental. I see the former as good, the latter not so much.)

It is why I have never been an advice-giver. Both personally and professionally, it has always been my habit to try to help the person in front of me to see the situation broadly and clearly and to ask them the type of powerful questions that will lead them to draw their own conclusions and take ownership of their choices. I think that is the best way to engage life’s difficult choices, with children and adults alike. When people–especially the “impressionable” people that we tend to be at until at least our late twenties–feel pressured or judged into making a decision by the opinions of others (such as their parents or their church), they never take full responsibility for the decision. They feel it is out of their hands and thus surrender to that wave of pressure, never fully addressing the most important question: Does this feel right and true FOR ME? If that question is given a full treatment, there is no other opinion worth considering.

In the end, then, I suppose my way with the kids-who-are-nearly-or-new-adults is this: to offer my opinions in advance, to help them to see their situations more clearly in the moment, and to quietly support them once their decisions are made (though, of course, believing my way is the best way!). They’re just kids, right? They need that support. We all do. I will keep doing my thing the best way I know how and hoping they see the light of wisdom and use it to guide them on this fantastic adventure called LIFE.

How about you? How do you handle yourself when other people don’t follow your model of the world? Open up your journal and think about your opinions and judgments. At what age, generally speaking, do you think the average person is mentally, emotionally, and experientially “ready” (a.k.a. mature enough) to get married? What is it about that age that brings you to that conclusion? Do you come to this opinion by your own experience–good or bad–with relationships, by the examples of people you have known, or just your sense of people? What do you think when people who are significantly younger than that age announce their engagement? Do you keep your reaction–shock, dismay, condemnation, whatever–inside, or do you share your thoughts with others? Do you give your opinion directly to the individual offender? What determines your decision to share your opinion or not? Is it a desire to spare their feelings, an obligation to save them from their foolishness, or do you just not care enough about the issue to raise it? How strong is your compulsion to impose your opinion on others? Does it depend on your relationship with the offender? Does it depend on how egregious you deem their error to be? Are there any relationships worth breaking over the person’s willingness to comply with your opinions? Does it make you feel inauthentic to hide your positions? Does this whole thing really come down to a matter of tact? How much older than your ideal marriage age is your suggested age to start parenting? What is the difference in maturity level necessary to parent well? How different are your suggested marriage and parenting ages than the legal ages to drive, drink, vote, or enlist in the military? How does that disparity strike you? No matter your current age, describe how you imagine most people change between 18 and 30. In what ways do they remain the same? Any? How drastically do a person’s standards and preferences change in that time? Drastically enough to hold off on marriage? What aspects of marrying young–and having kids young–are more desirable to you than waiting? Are there any lifestyle choices that others make that truly upset you? What is it about those that somehow get under your skin and push your buttons? What choices cause you to “judge” (i.e. condemn) someone rather than simply have an opinion about their choice? Do you consider yourself opinionated? How about judgmental? What would your family and friends say? If you are more judgmental than you would like, can you change your attitude? Would that lighten your load to let go of all that responsibility of policing people’s lives? How difficult is it to be supportive of someone you believe is making a life mistake? It would be a nice skill, though, right? Leave me a reply and let me know: How well you do let others live the lives of their choosing?

Love without condition,

William

P.S. If this letter helped to draw out some clarity in your own mind about how you operate, please share it on social media. Let’s support each other and celebrate our differences!

P.P.S. If this type of deep dive and questioning appeals to you, check out my book, Journal of YOU: Uncovering The Beauty That Is Your Truth, at your favorite online retailers.

All In Your Head: Are You Young, Old, or a Little Bit of Both?

DSC_1239“Young. Old. Just words.” –George Burns

Hello friend,

Many years ago, before cancer consumed her body and took her away from me, my Grandma Jeanne told me that, in her mind, she still felt just like she did when she was a kid. Having been close to her since I was born and already a young adult when she told me this, I, of course, thought of her as old. How could she not feel old and slow and behind the times and everything else we associate with aging? The thought of her defying what I believed to be the natural laws really threw me. It seemed so audacious, especially coming from this sweet, soft-spoken angel of a woman. I adored her to no end, but hey, that didn’t stop me from thinking of her as old! But no, she insisted that, on the inside, she didn’t feel it.   Having not spent a lot of time with older people previously, I was shocked by this revelation. But even more than I was shocked, I was tickled.  It was marvelous to me! I loved the idea that aging didn’t have to mean certain decline and decay of all things. I was heartened by the thought that all of these old folks—the ranks of which now include my parents, with me not far behind—were, despite all appearances of slowing down and fading out, definitely alive and kicking in their emotional and spiritual lives.

I loved thinking of my Grandma as young and full of life, imagining how she played as a child and how she fell in love with my Grandpa at an age that I now think of as “still a kid.” Not long after this wonderful revelation, she received a little framed craft that said, “Grandmas are just antique little girls.” And that is how I have thought of her ever since. I cherish that thought more than I can explain.

As my Mom approached her 70th birthday last year, I did a sort of interview/life review with her. She echoed her mother’s thoughts. She said she still feels herself young and full of life. She actually acts that way, too. She is completely hands-on with all of her grandkids, and she thinks nothing of hopping in the car by herself and driving across three states to watch a recital or skating show, then turning around the next day and driving back home. She is a dynamo, so hearing that she still feels herself to be young is no surprise.

But what about everyone else? Are my Mom and Grandma Jeanne the exception, the two Peter Pans amidst a cohort of fossils and curmudgeons? I am asking for selfish reasons, of course. I want to know what to expect! Is my zest for adventure and growth and new knowledge going to wither with the years, as I always imagined to be happening to the old folks I knew? Or, will my characteristic joie de vivre keep my spirit free and fully engaged until my last days?

A couple of months ago, I went out to the street to “check on” my son and the neighbor kid, who were tossing a football around. Soon, there was a field drawn in sidewalk chalk and we were engrossed in a big game. Plays were being called, touchdown dances were being danced, and the trash talk was flying as only three kids under the age of 8 can bring it. I was in my element. The neighbor kid’s mom came out after a while and laughed, “You love this stuff, don’t you? You are just a big kid!” Guilty! I absolutely love that stuff!

For me, this is one of the greatest perks of parenthood: the opportunity to do “kid’s stuff” without reprisal. Nobody wants to go up and down that sledding hill more than I do! Snow forts and snowball fights? “Count me in!” Backflips on the trampoline and cartwheels in the yard? “Yes and yes.” Need an adult to ride with the little kids on the tube behind the boat? “Oh, gosh, I suppose I could.” I can’t wait until my kids are old enough to battle me on the tennis court and throw Frisbees across the yard. Just about the only thing on my Christmas List this year was a beginner snowboard that I could just step into and ride down the sledding hill (I have always wanted to learn). My Mom’s response after an exhaustive search: “They all say they are for people who weigh 95 pounds or less.” Argh! I have the same trouble with Slip-n-Slides. Such is the plight of the adult child. There are not enough people like me demanding such toys, apparently. Yes, when it comes to sports, games, and outdoor fun, it seems I just might hold onto my childish tastes. At least until my body tells me “no más!”

But what about emotionally and spiritually? What does that evolution look like? Currently in The Journal Project, I am reading from the years when I was in my mid-twenties. While wandering around Europe, when someone would ask me what I wanted to do with my life, I would boldly respond, ”I want to save the world!” and a lively discussion would ensue, full of my sweeping ideals and my deep self-confidence that I would be the one to do it. All these years later, I see that my idealism has tempered some, but not my eagerness to be a part of the solution.

I used to believe I would have as big of an impact as my heroes–Gandhi, Dr. King, and Henry Thoreau–had in their lives and beyond. With each year that passes without a notable impact, I feel my expectations lowering. Maybe this is my version of feeling old. Even still, the passion to help people live happier lives and to make the world a better place still rages in me, and my continued willingness to take new strides in that direction makes me feel like I will hold onto some youthful enthusiasm for a long time to come. I hope so.

So, how old do I feel? I am not sure. Intellectually, I still have the curiosity of a young child, and possibly more so. I will take that as a positive. Socially, I think in some ways I have gone inside my shell more as the years have passed, and that has probably aged me more than I would like to admit. Emotionally, although I am fairly immune to the up-and-down daily dramatics at this age—a sign of “maturity,” perhaps—I have definitely held on to my childhood capacity for eagerness and delight. I am still genuinely excited to be alive and am easily thrilled. Spiritually speaking, I guess I am not sure what is young and what is old anymore. I don’t know if kids actually feel a close connection with the Divine—I don’t recall feeling that way—as it is such a big and distant concept, difficult for them to pin down even if they feel it. I do know, however, that in those mid-twenties I mentioned earlier, I was on a spiritual rocket that had me feeling howl-at-the-moon rapture and pure Bliss regularly. My soul was on fire with it! Maybe we can call that youthful. As the years have passed, I have maintained a sense of wonder at the magnificence of this ride that we are on and the Divine force that gives it all Life, but my feeling is more one of settled gratitude and connection rather than the howling rapture that once had me. That was nice; this is nice. If this is what we come to call spiritually old, I am okay with that.

All told, I would say I have a lot of young in me, but definitely some old, too. I would like to keep my vim and vigor, my zest for life and eagerness to play, as well as my awe. And maybe I will even break out of my social shell one of these days, too, and speak with adults the way I do with kids. Will my grandkids one day make me something that says, “Grandpas are just antique little boys”? If the shoe fits…

How about you? How old do you feel? Open up your journal and dive deep into your heart and mind. What do you notice in there? At your core, do you feel the same way you always have? Is the child still in you? The young adult? What types of activities or thoughts bring out the kid in you? What gives you that same type of delight? What is your favorite thing to do? How old do you feel when you are doing that? What effect has your physical health had on how old you feel? Do limitations from weight, illness, injuries, or chronic pain affect the way you think of yourself? Can you separate your physical limitations from who you really are inside and still feel young in spite of them? How intellectually curious are you? Do you enjoy learning new skills or information? Does this make you feel younger? How about emotionally and spiritually? How enthusiastic are you in general? Are you more or less open-minded than before, and how does that play into how old you feel? Is there still awe and wonder in you? Do you think that you sometimes act and feel “old” because you think you are supposed to be getting old? What if we really weren’t supposed to be? What if we got to decide? What would you do differently? Can you do some of that today? Consider your role models: parents, grandparents, teachers, etc. How old do you think they felt? Is my Grandma Jeanne, the “antique little girl,” more the rule or the exception to the rule? Which are you going to be? Leave me a reply and let me know: How old do you feel right now, and which direction do you plan to age from here?

 Bloom where you are planted,

William

P.S. I hope that you dove deep on this one, and I hope it helped you to see yourself more clearly. If it did, please share it with friends and have a discussion.