And so I mused to myself while washing the dishes a while ago.
What is to be mature?
Is it to develop proper manners? Is it to be able to act cool and collected? Is it to change your point of views in a broader sense? Mature people have always appeared to me like that. They have a good sense of what is right and what is wrong. They work with grace under pressure. They are open to a variety of opinions and does not hesitate to consider them no matter how absurd. They are most efficient in their tasks.
Or maybe it is a resignation of some sort?
From what I had observed, I asked myself what made them mature. Maybe there is a common bond that ties all these characteristics of maturity. Maybe they may not call it resignation but rather acceptance. I'd like to call mine resignation.
I had to contemplate first if I should wash the dishes or not. I was assessing myself if I am too tired - I have a heavy cold, in fact - and to ask my mom to wash it instead. Then I saw her mountain of laundry and that idea was history. I thought about asking father to wash the dishes - Armageddon almost came at that brief moment - since he had arrived at home early and was doing nothing but using Virtual DJ - as far as my instincts tell me. But as I looked again at the dishes - contempt, forlorn and dejection - I sighed to myself and told me, 'Fine. Can't be helped.' And that's when I found myself thinking about maturity.
As I feel myself coming to terms with the responsibilities I carry, I am still wondering how in the heavens I have done chores [that goes without saying 'without complaining']. Maybe it's resignation, maybe it's something else.
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