Hello, Peter Pan!

I realized recently that, even though I have grown spiritually and intellectually over the years, I am still, in essence, the same person I was at the age of 12. I was in sixth grade then, already facing the frustrating vicissitudes of young adulthood, struggling with my self-identity while my classmates — the “normal” kids — played basketball. There was an adolescent rage in me that I still can’t quite explain, but I suspect it had something to do with a deep loneliness coupled with a nascent tendency to over-analyze my own psyche. I was starved for platonic intimacy. Any friendships I managed to cultivate were short-lived.

Do people really change? We all have the ability to grow as human beings; our civilization as we know it would be impossible without the rewards of personal growth. But if you look back at the kid you used to be and compare him or her with the adult you are now, what differences do you see? I believe that our perception of the world and ourselves changes (hopefully for the better), but our souls remain quintessentially the same.

Of course, I am no longer that angry and confused 12-year-old boy. I have taken peaceful solitude over bitter loneliness, gratefulness over festering anger, compassion over childish malevolence. Sometimes, though, there are moments when I find myself regressing, caught up in drama as if I were still that angst-ridden kid, and that’s when I realize that little boy is still here, seeking coherency in a world of puzzling yet joyful complexity. Maybe what I’m trying to say is that, ultimately, we never really grow up.