I’ve noticed a trend among adults: We don’t want to be them.
Adults, I mean.
Oh sure, when the benefits outweigh the burdens we’re there to sign up – in triplicate. But when the burdens tip the scale and we’re weighed down with the cares of the world on our shoulders …
… well, we’d like to rip those candles off the cake and start again.
If not this ^^^ early, then maybe somewhere around ten years old.
Alas, however, candles burn not only at one end, they are fearfully additive-ly inclined and we cannot go back. So … we must go on.
But we don’t have to go on the way we always have. Or we’ve been trained to. Or we’ve convinced ourselves we must. We must be adults – candles don’t lie – but must we be the modern definition of adults?
Maybe it’s time to redefine adulthood.
Back when I was a kid, adulthood’s slogan seemed to be: “He who dies with the most toys wins.”
Our generation has somewhat scoffed at that mantra, like a good generational gap should do. But with what we replaced it, well, I’m just not thrilled:
“He who lives (dies?) with the fullest calendar and the most stress wins.”
For all the fussin’ I hear about how stressed folks are, if that’s winnin’, well, I used to be on that “winning team,” but anymore? I’d rather lose, thank you very much.
Instead of signing out of adulthood, as if it’s a volunteer position in a not-for-profit organization, why don’t we redefine adulthood?
I have some ideas, but …
How would YOU like adulthood redefined?