Coming up on the big 21, I’ve done a bit of thinking on what it means to really be responsible. My dad once told me that he’d like to write a book on the topic of maturity. I think he made a few lists, or drew up some mind-maps. I have a few ideas should he ever decide to publish his masterpiece.
Maturity to me means responsibility. That includes self-responsibility for things like finances, respect, actions, words… and even seemingly trivial things like homework and hygene. Responsibility is doing laundry on a regular basis. Taking the trash (rubbish) out when it gets full, and unloading the dishwasher without being asked. These responsibilities can become habits, if repeated often enough.
Responsibility for others requires selflessness – a quality which grows in some of us like a delicate flower which needs constant care. This is the hard one. The one which affects me on a daily basis. As a nanny, I take care of three wonderful, beautiful, intelligent and demanding kids – and occasionally they are grateful. But mostly, they are not. The last two years has been an extended lesson in selflessness which I doubt I would have learned if not for my current job. Taking the time to read to a tired, whiny child, or even just kissing a sweaty forehead as they drift off to sleep after telling you ‘I hate you’, requires an awful amount of selflessness.
I don’t always get it right. Occasionally time-outs last a bit longer than necessary while I drink my cup of calm-down tea. I sometimes lose my patience when mud is tracked through the freshly vacuumed carpets. But that’s where the maturity part comes in.
Maturity is being willing to learn, grow, and attempt to better yourself each day. That’s what I strive for. So am I mature? Sometimes. I can still laugh at fart-jokes, though.
Everyday Adventure 