I was walking out on the porch with my mother today as she caught me up on several months’ worth of news, and I her. Nine o’clock at night and the breeze was deliciously electrifying, and the dark perfect for confidences. I prattled on about my life for a while before letting her take over; I got to hear about everything from housing developers, deception and lawsuits to the Koreans who’d moved in next door. Looking out at the purplish-maroon, almost-starless sky, it hit me that this was life – there was always someone to catch up with, someone who wanted to share news and some time with you. You hop from setting to setting in life, always with different groups of people; first you’re with the one, then you switch partners, almost like a lifelong dance.
It struck me earlier in the day that this was what liberation and adulthood meant – learning that everything is transient – and not being bothered by it; reveling in it almost, reveling at your capability for adaptation and enjoyment and understanding of life and people, and their need for space and change; and appreciation and acceptance of yourself as an individual, not dependent on anyone but yourself; the ability to look optimistically at life and take advantage of every situation you’re vaulted into with a leap.
Just today’s little epiphany.