Peter Pan Syndrome

I've realized recently that I take myself seriously far less often than I used to. I've gotten into the habit of a sort of whimsical approach to life that leaves little time for any constancy of purpose. Of course, I still have the same aspirations, but I really have to dig much deeper these days, to draw strength and action from them.

The reason is disdainfully obvious, of course. I no longer have any excuses to play with. I'm a proper adult whose life is in her own hands, as I have been for 5 years. However now, the stakes are very high.

That idea terrifies me sometimes.

It leads me down this easy path of whimsy and flight of ideas that gives me some excellent conversation starters (I am confident that the former wallflower, goal-oriented, painfully shy me could talk the ears off the most stoic Pashtun warlord or high school mean girl) and a feeling of unlimited freedom and possibility.

But where am I really, now that my whole approach to life has changed? The things that centered me, like career, school, achieving things are now not the only things that I find at the center of my life. Friends have become immensely more important. Family has become so much more important in a more genuine, less need-based way. The interests that I generally suppressed or put on the back burner in pursuit of academic achievement, now push their way to the front. Even at the 11th hour, when they really shouldn't.

If I look at all this optimistically, I'd definitely say that my life has become far more colored and rich. It bursts with things to be done, places to go, people to talk to, music to hear and things to learn. I have so much more to live for now, than I have ever had.

While all the above is wonderful and I'm eternally thankful to whatever power helped to arrange the above (some strange amorphous God like entity), I'm also disappointing in the lack of discipline I show these days. I'm also disappointed in the part of me that still hangs on to the self-destructive belief that I'm just not capable of taking for myself everything that I've ever wanted.

I am so happy these days. And complacent.

In the past, I'd have waited to figure out what was wrong, to work myself up in a fiery speech of resilience and self-patronage and worked zealously for a time.

Now, though I still do this from time to time, I mostly save the theatrics for friends in need or the hungry insecure part of myself.

In all honesty, I don't want the drama anymore. That isn't what I want motivating me. I don't need grand ideals and inspiring rhetoric. I just need to know that when I want something and have the courage and discipline to get it, I can live every day in fulfillment of that goal. That's really all I need to be happy anymore.

Sadly, I've been getting in my own way a lot of late.

I don't know if its the lack of courage, discipline or goals, perhaps a disappointing combination of all three, but I just need to grow up in some arenas of life.

The whimsicality can stay, but I guess it needs to be brought into check and not take over.