And next on the agenda, unfinished business...

There was a time in my life when I thought I was wicked-smart and that I could achieve anything, do any job, master any task, and chart any course. I had the whole world in the palm of my hand, to do with as I please, to conquer at whim. Ah, the folly of youth!

I think this overzealous self-importance is commonly called adolescence. We hit our stride in our teens, peek just before twenty, live through our 20s not quite so self-absorbed, but not until our 30s do we really get a sense of reality about the world and our small place in it. At least, this was my time line, adjust as you see fit.

Sometimes I think, having all that self-confidence was overwhelming. I felt like I could do anything, but what did I REALLY WANT to do? I felt like I was being pulled in fifteen different directions, all from the inside out. As time passed, I felt less like an all-conquering hero and more like a Jane-of-all-trades, mistress of none. There were so many things that interested me, so many different things I wanted to explore and try, yet I had trouble finishing things. I would get bored easily and want to be on to the next new and exciting thing, for at least as long as it stayed exciting. This pattern proved to be, at times, expensive, exhaustive, embarrassing, or erratic. Take your pick. As evidence I provide you with the following list:

• I tried to sell cosmetics and win a pink Cadillac, but now am blacklisted from their organization for selling back all the product I had mistakenly thought I could unload.
• I was 6 credits shy of a degree at one University, but moved back in with my parents and did an entire additional year at another University just to get the same degree.
• At different points in time, I've joined various and sundry weight loss programs and workout groups, yet here I sit, more overweight than ever before.
• I have an entire shelf in my bookcase filled with blank books and journals just waiting to be written in. Sadder yet, there's a box under my bed with journals that do contain writing, but over half of them have only been christened on the first 5 or 10 pages, then blank...
• I chose an occupation where you have to pass exams to progress and become a certified member of the profession. I've passed the first 2 of 6 exams and can't seem to make it any further despite multiple attempts.

I could offer up more examples, but I'm starting to get depressed. I know that the benevolent powers-that-be, gave us both reason and emotion to balance us out. In retrospect, I wish I had done a better job at knowing when to follow my head and when to follow my heart. It would have tipped the balance on many of those internal tug-of-wars playing themselves out inside my being. Depending on the circumstances, it's not always the head you should follow. And I've made a few mistakes both ways, causing both headache and heartache, some mistakes more painful than others.

Now, as a 30-something, I've made many of those so-called "adult" realizations, each one a psychological watershed, like:

• realizing my parents are only human, fallible and mortal like the rest of us.
• realizing that, while I probably could do any job, some jobs are WAY harder than others, and some I would NOT enjoy, and some I would be just plain awful at doing.
• realizing that, while I would still consider myself to be wicked-smart, there are people out there smarter than me, fortunately; and that there are also people out there much, much, much, much, much more wicked than I could ever be even at my worst moments, unfortunately.
• realizing that, as my own mother ceremoniously takes on her new role as a grandmother, the mantle has been passed and I'm now the one who will be answering to the call for "mom".
• realizing that being a parent helps you to better understand God.
• realizing very, very recently, that even as a 30-something, it's never to late to recreate yourself into the person you want to be.

So, I look at myself now as being back at the beginning. Remaking myself and soon to reemerge. Not like a delicate, beautiful butterfly breaking out of its cocoon. I was not a caterpillar before, and there's no way I could ever describe myself as delicate, in any sense of the word. But, I will soon be reborn, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, a newer, stronger, brighter, more focused version of my same old self. I can't tell you where this new phoenix will fly (for her course has not yet been charted) or what her plumage will look like (for her feathers are still growing), but she's smoldering away and when the smoke clears... look out world!