A reader pointed me to a column by D.L Stewart of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. Mr. Stewart eloquently describes the nostalgic details of the first days of school:
Like Christmas Eve and the night before milestone birthdays, the first school day after summer vacation was a special time. It may have been the end of freedom, but it also was the renewal of hope. The promise that this school year would be different from all the ones that came before it. A fresh start.
On the first day after vacation, clothes were unwrinkled and unstained. School bags were filled with fresh supplies: pointless pencils, unrubbed erasers and notebooks that had not yet been doodled upon.
He goes on to say that even though that by the end of the first day of school, “there would be gravy stains on our new shirt, most of our pencils would be broken, our erasers could be lost and our notebooks would be covered with doodles,” there had been “at least, one brief, shining moment of hope.”
Stewart argues that adulthood offers no such vestige of hope, and that “going back to work would not be a new beginning, we realized. It would merely be a resumption of the same old same old.”
I do tend to agree with his closing line, “growing up stinks,” but I differ with him in the idea that being grown up dooms us to a life of hopelessness and resignation that we’ve seen and experienced the best life has to offer. Life is about choices. Too many people act like life is a spectator sport, and they have no control in the outcome. Hogwash.
In fact, I believe that the best thing about being grown-up is that we have the ability to actually DO something about the things that dissatisfy us so much about adulthood. If you are unhappy with your current work situation, or a relationship, or anything else, I implore you to DO something about it. Don’t let Adultitis creep in and fool you into believing that this is the best life has to offer. Decide to make the choices that will create the change you wish to see in your life.
Children instinctively know that life is not a spectator sport. They don’t spend their days sitting on the sidelines. They spend every day passionately asking questions, dreaming big, and getting dirty. Live life like that and you may be surprised with the results.
Yes! I totally and emphatically agree with you!
I quit my job a couple of weeks ago to go to university next month to study music (my true love). The usual issues popped up, such as reduced income, but I thought about it long and hard and decided that I would not and could not waste the next few years in a job I hate while opportunities pass me by.
I know far more people than I should who seem to think life is for spectating. They’re happy (externally at least) to ride the “consumer carousel” of mortgages, credit cards and a lifestyle that ties them down into working to live. They think I’m crazy for refusing to ride that carousel (in a manner of speaking) and seek a fulfilling life.
You have to live every day with the view that something exciting is just around the corner: a self-perpetuating journey of discovery. To accept anything else is to give up on life.
Cheers to you, Alex!
And I concur when you say that you “know far more people than you should who seem to think life is for spectating.” It’s a difficult task to approach those people–especially the ones you care about–about the subject of jumping off the “carousel.”
It’s hard to compete with the carousel, however. Just like in real life, it’s safe, predictable, and gives the impression (illusion) that you’re really moving somewhere. It’s a very popular ride.
Hopefully your example will inspire the people in your life to re-consider a new way of thinking. Good luck!
Another great thing about being an adult, aside from the fact that yes, providing the opportunity to change what you don’t like doesn’t land you in jail or destitute, people like yourself and I who bring back childhood memories, adventures and innocense for not only ourselves, but for others to enjoy, is merely at the end of a pencil. I chose to create a cartoon about childhood because it’s the one moment in our lives where we don’t have to worry about not being a kid. I like to think that maybe once a week I can take some of my readers back to that time, if only for a few minutes. I know your work, Jason, does that for me, and I’m sure many others as well. Thanks for keeping me thinking young. :)
Guy~
Thanks, Guy. Who knew that there was so much power at the end of a pencil? (Probably the person who said the pen is mightier than the sword.) Anyway, I’m proud to be part of the “pencil army.”