Coming to Grips with Maturity in a Changing Environment
The monsoon rains of July turns into the sweltering heat of August, and the life of everyone began to progress again after going through half of laid-back summer vacations amid definite signs of lethargic slowness. For some, it is already a season of tearful goodbyes, and for some, the tears of separation are also mixed with anxiety, and hope, for the somewhat unknown, yet exciting future. The same faces and personalities, so familiar after what seems like an eternity of constant interaction, begin to disappear one by one, without any promise of future reunions...
People speak of their "best friends forever," they speak of love that last forever, and they vow to never leave others behind or alone. Unfortunately for all of us who chose to spend different parts of our lives at different corners of the Earth with completely different groups of people, such so-called promises can be nothing beyond empty words. We have have to go. We just have to. New chapters of our lives await our composition, and their obstacles and joys await our confrontation.
And then, new "best friends forever," new "love that last forever," and any other promises that will supposedly last forever will be generated...in a brand-new environment with brand-new acquaintances. Our current "BFFs" and "lovers," as new stories blossom in new lands, will inevitably retreat to a dark, forgotten corner of our minds, rediscovered temporarily only in the most coincidental of circumstances. It is not that we are "traitors" with short memory spans or shallow feelings, its just that all of us must look ahead to the storms brewing in front of us, not the big waves that we somehow already braved through.
And look ahead, we shall and we must. As those who chose challenging themselves over being raised in a non-changing, all-too-familiar environment, we chose the path of incurring often unknown and surprising risks rather than a path of a set-pattern life and refusal of self-transformations. Whether it be the first move or the hundredth, those who depart should expect no warm embraces at their destinations, only endless hidden prejudices, cold hostile stares from ignorant locals, and a money-hungry, inflexible bureaucracy that seek to capitalize on the "new guy's" lack of familiarity with the new environment.
When the unknown ahead is so unfriendly, especially when compared to the warmness of where we are now, the extreme anxiety is completely understandable. I have even heard of many who pick up bad habits such as smoking just to get over the fear of facing the future. But everyone seems to forget one thing: the warmness of where we are now is not endemic; it is won through our personal and collective efforts against the awkwardness and mutual coldness that undoubtedly were the initial conditions.
If we can all succeed in making tough conditions friendly, just once, we know that next time, and next next time, and every time the same kinds of situation occur in the future, we certainly can do it again. The sometimes financially costly and socially embarrassing mishaps in endless trial-and-errors that we all go through to make the "friendliness" happen become, above anything we learn in books or from boring teachers at hagwons, our most treasured knowledge, which indeed can and need to be used everywhere for our very survival.
Maturity, to state simply, is the gradual mastery of such knowledge. If what we consider "childishness," with all its silly humor and un-adult-like high levels of energy, can get one to successfully find one's sustainable place in society, I do not see why it cannot be the very definition of maturity for that particular person. But without painful social experiments in changing social circles, perhaps nobody will ever come to the realization of what maturity can be.
See every separation as a step closer to finding that personalized way of becoming truly mature. And see every new anxious foray into the socially unknown as an opportunity to sharpen those skills of "maturity." Every painful unfulfilled love and every awkward first meeting must not be avoided. Turn every goodbye into a hello, and a person's prime spot in the complex human society will naturally be found.
People speak of their "best friends forever," they speak of love that last forever, and they vow to never leave others behind or alone. Unfortunately for all of us who chose to spend different parts of our lives at different corners of the Earth with completely different groups of people, such so-called promises can be nothing beyond empty words. We have have to go. We just have to. New chapters of our lives await our composition, and their obstacles and joys await our confrontation.
And then, new "best friends forever," new "love that last forever," and any other promises that will supposedly last forever will be generated...in a brand-new environment with brand-new acquaintances. Our current "BFFs" and "lovers," as new stories blossom in new lands, will inevitably retreat to a dark, forgotten corner of our minds, rediscovered temporarily only in the most coincidental of circumstances. It is not that we are "traitors" with short memory spans or shallow feelings, its just that all of us must look ahead to the storms brewing in front of us, not the big waves that we somehow already braved through.
And look ahead, we shall and we must. As those who chose challenging themselves over being raised in a non-changing, all-too-familiar environment, we chose the path of incurring often unknown and surprising risks rather than a path of a set-pattern life and refusal of self-transformations. Whether it be the first move or the hundredth, those who depart should expect no warm embraces at their destinations, only endless hidden prejudices, cold hostile stares from ignorant locals, and a money-hungry, inflexible bureaucracy that seek to capitalize on the "new guy's" lack of familiarity with the new environment.
When the unknown ahead is so unfriendly, especially when compared to the warmness of where we are now, the extreme anxiety is completely understandable. I have even heard of many who pick up bad habits such as smoking just to get over the fear of facing the future. But everyone seems to forget one thing: the warmness of where we are now is not endemic; it is won through our personal and collective efforts against the awkwardness and mutual coldness that undoubtedly were the initial conditions.
If we can all succeed in making tough conditions friendly, just once, we know that next time, and next next time, and every time the same kinds of situation occur in the future, we certainly can do it again. The sometimes financially costly and socially embarrassing mishaps in endless trial-and-errors that we all go through to make the "friendliness" happen become, above anything we learn in books or from boring teachers at hagwons, our most treasured knowledge, which indeed can and need to be used everywhere for our very survival.
Maturity, to state simply, is the gradual mastery of such knowledge. If what we consider "childishness," with all its silly humor and un-adult-like high levels of energy, can get one to successfully find one's sustainable place in society, I do not see why it cannot be the very definition of maturity for that particular person. But without painful social experiments in changing social circles, perhaps nobody will ever come to the realization of what maturity can be.
See every separation as a step closer to finding that personalized way of becoming truly mature. And see every new anxious foray into the socially unknown as an opportunity to sharpen those skills of "maturity." Every painful unfulfilled love and every awkward first meeting must not be avoided. Turn every goodbye into a hello, and a person's prime spot in the complex human society will naturally be found.
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