How to Lose Weight, Become an Adult, and Flee from Responsibility, All In One Easy Week!

Y'know, it's a funny thing, growing up. Every time you think you're done, you think you have achieved that nebulous state of adulthood, every time you say to yourself "Aha! Now I am a responsible, cool, collected, and 'with it' older person who can handle anything" -- you're not. There's always something else waiting, lurking around the corner, just out of sight. You just think you've reached adulthood because you haven't experienced it yet.

It's like the syndrome of school, which gets progressively harder each year, with more to do and more to fit in. Each year, we all complain about how 'this is the most stress I've ever had -- last year seemed stressful at the time, but that was nothing compared to what I've got to do now." And the reality is, we're right -- because stress, and growing up, are all about experience vs. naivete. As Grade Fours, we complain about how stressful it is to have to write a two-page story with three pictures in it, because we haven't yet been to Grade Five where we have to write a five page story with No Pictures. Incrementally we creep towards bigger and harder things, until we, one day, find our limits.

But not yet. At least, not for me.

Last week, my first proper week as QCF President (as far as I'm concerned) was certainly stressful. There were rooms to be booked, people to talk to, meetings to have, difficult issues to muddle through. I suddenly find myself leading a university group of Christians, when I'm still really not all that sure about my own faith, and how much I actually know/beleive. No one died, and no one yelled at anyone else, but I flee from conflict of any sort (real or soon-to-be-real) and it seems that Christian groups are not known for being able to avoid big scary conflicts very well. Imagine that.

But it was fine. Really. Now that I think back, I don't know what I worried about. The events ran well, I didn't feel as if I had to be there for all of them, my executive met and worked together well, and the events I led all seemed to be a success. So why is my overwhelming memory of last week one of fear? Last week, my stomach so roiled in knots that I ate very little [which, by the way, is a great way to lose weight, in case your wondering]. Why was it so stressful?

Maybe I'm just not a very strong person. Maybe if there was ever real conflict inmy life I'd simple crumple to the ground like a rag doll, crushed under the weight of my own inhibitions and desires to have everyone like me.

Or maybe I'd handle it. I just don't know.

However, I do see progress in myself. The very fact that I didn't attend all the events speaks well of my growing ability to delegate and to let other people do the work. I didn't feel guilty about giving other people work I could have done myself (this doesn't sound like a big deal, but for a recovering Guilt Junkie like me it's huge). My talk on Saturday night was great fun (I likes being the centre of attention!), and, surprisingly, my spirits weren't dampened by the fact that few people showed up to hear it. And I can honestly think about the fact that I am totally uncertain of what this year will bring (Will we have conflict? Will people come out to our events? Will we have enough money? Do I have the faith and the ability to get us through this?) without feeling terrible. It's a little exhilarating, actually, to say to myself "I don't know what's going to happen, but I'll be there, and I'll deal with it. And I have a wonderful group of people around me to help me deal with it. So bring it on."

This is the point where I would usually say "Aha! This clearly means that I am now, fully and completely, an adult willing to face my fears and put others ahead of myself. I am no longer a child in any respect." But I've now gone through that thought too many times; I've realized that actually there is not dividing line between child and adult, between Silly Bento and Big Kid Bento and Adult Bento. I thought I'd reached it when I went to university. I thought I'd reached it when I moved out into my first apartment. I thought I'd reached it when my parents moved and I had to pack up my childhood room. And now I think I've reached it because I've taken on a position of power among my peers in a difficult time.

But really, all I've done is reached another milestone. There'll be more. Lots more.