My earliest memory goes back to when I was three years old. It was 1960.
Our mother had her beauty shop in the front room of our house. It had typical beauty shop furniture; a styling chair and dryer, mirrors and some pictures on the wall. My favorite place to sit was on the floor underneath the air conditioner window unit. It was the coolest spot in the house.
The older ladies would ask me, “And, how old are you?” Proudly, I would lift my right hand, forcing three middle fingers to stick up, so I could claim for myself and be affirmed by the elder ladies that I was now a “big boy.”
Nowadays, when I tell people in their 70’s and 80’s my age they say, “Oh, you are still so young!”
Well, at 60+ years of age I am entering the latter phase of earthly life. I can say (and my body confirms) that I am no longer young but in terms of maturity of intellect, wisdom, emotions, and spirit – I have to ask, am I now a “big boy?”
As I pass each decade of living, I’ve learned that “LIFE” exposes and sometimes crushes the fantasies that I’ve held about myself and the life to be. When I hear someone say, “I need to speak my truth,” I think NOT truth but the little voice in our head that convinces us that we are “bigger” than who we truly are. It is the liar we must never ignore.
There is only one Truth and it is absolute. No one person can claim personal ownership of it. So, the question that I ask myself today is, “am I still that little child whose ego is saying, You are a big boy, now, … you are mature?” Hopefully not, because it won’t be long before life itself will erase this fantasy and teach me otherwise.
If we are fortunate to live one more day, or perhaps a decade or two, how will we look back on this moment, …what maturity and immaturity will I find?
