There are no adults
There are no adults
Reckoning with my adult-hood and searching for hope
I've been trying to figure out what to write to you this week. When I think about my seasonal theme of trust, I feel deflated and uninspired to write more about it. It's really hard to trust right now. Personally, my body has things to say in response to which my mind goes with the worst case scenario. Collectively, there is war. There is genocide. There is a rise in authoritarianism. Where is the goodness that I can trust?
I've spent a lot of my life leaning in to the idea that the adults are in charge. There are people who know more than me, who are more responsible than me, making sure the right things happen. I know now that some of my ability to believe that was due to my own privilege, I hold a lot of the desired traits of the dominant culture, but it's become pretty clear to me lately that there are no adults like this. Nobody has all the right answers and the perfect amount of responsibility. We are all trying to figure things out.
Last fall, as I walked onto the high school campus for curriculum night, the feeling was visceral. I think in my head I'm still 15, trying to figure everything out, but when I stepped on campus it was like being smacked on the head and told wake up, you’re in charge now. I am the adult now. I'm the one who is supposed to have it figured out. I'm the responsible one. I have a teenager!!
Except, I don't have it all figured out. Life still feels like a confusing, though sometimes awe-inspiring, mystery. I'm just here doing the best with what I've got. Does everyone feel this way? Are those people in power, who I thought were making sure the right things happen, any different than me? Are we all just winging it a little bit?
The more I get to know myself and trust myself, the more I can see the faults in the world. Instead of accepting the status quo thinking well, they must know more than me, I can look and say no, that's not right. The difference between me at 15 and me at 48 is the strength of my convictions and my willingness to act on them.
I'm so tired of watching so-called adults make a mess of things. I’m tired of all the old systems of maintaining power and control and perpetuating oppression and suppression. What’s my responsibility? What’s my part?
Some days I think perhaps I'm naïve to think that things could be different. Humans have a rather extensive history of battling for this kind of power and control. Yet, on my good days, still I hope. I trust there’s an innate goodness out there. I bury myself in stories of beauty and love and compassion and the wisdom that comes from the margins. I look for the people who hope like me so that I know that I'm not alone, that I'm not crazy to hope for more. They remind me that I can trust my moral compass.
Friends tell me sometimes that I'm good at connecting them with resources, so I'll share here some resources that are filling me up right now; that are adding scaffolding to my hope.
Stories of good people and/or positive messages:
Ted Lasso (AppleTV)
This Is Us (Netflix)
Heartstopper (Netflix, Graphic Novels) - Anything by Alice Oseman, really
On Faith:
The Corners with Nadia Bolz-Weber
Wildroot Parables by S.E. Reid
For a smile and/or laugh:
Resident Alien (Netflix)
Voices that move me, challenge me, or encourage me:
As a reminder, our Garden Gathering is coming up next week and I hope you will join me. We will be exploring trust and it’s free!
I’d like to add to the list: hostages still in Gaza, if they’re still alive.
In my twenties I had this moment /phase when I first realized this and I felt so betrayed. It's the biggest con that we get sucked into in our lifetime: that we will grow up and suddenly everything will make sense, we'll know what to do, we'll know what we want, we'll have it figured out. I can still feel the pain of betrayal, decades later, when it hit me that nobody has a clue really and everyone is making guesses and experimenting and trying to muddle through a best as they can and nobody has a masterplan.