A friend and I the other day were trying to think of the last time we were absolutely carefree--we almost couldn't remember such a time and were kind of amazed that it had existed. My threshold started at age twelve: I feel like I grew up a lot my thirteenth and fourteenth years, and left a lot of innocent little-girlishness behind me. It's incredible how learning of one event, one change in the life of someone close to you can change your life, your outlook on what is important and prioritized.
Dreams which had once seemed so entrancing and all-encompassing were replaced by more realistic ones, beliefs in invincibility of those I loved were shattered, and my view of earthly things was altered: materiality equals temporary. We must protect our material bodies, finances, experiences, because we only get them once. How did a carefree child get all this in a matter of months?
Life can be seen as a steady upward slope, a series of roller-coaster up-and-downs, or any number of other strict picture diagrams, but someone once described the progression of life as a shaky, primarily horizontal line, that now and then comes unpredictably to experiences and paradigm shifts which cause it to suddenly jump up a notch. This is how I see life; although, sometimes jumping up a notch doesn't necessarily mean your life has gotten better. Usually, it just means it has gotten more complicated. When I look back and realize I can never really go back, I am sad in a way, but even more so amazed at what I have become without even trying. If I could go back, I don't think I would: is that bad?
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