Growing

There is a certain self-awareness that comes with growing.

As babies, we discover our fingers and our toes, and are delighted with them, and our hunger and our tiredness, and are dismayed by them.

As little children we begin to discover what we like (ice cream) and don't like (peas), and what makes us happy (being loved) and unhappy (being denied).

As teenagers we are flooded with hormones and high school, and suddenly find our emotions, and have to carry them with us like an armful of balloons we are trying to manage in a strong wind.

And then, at some point in our lives, we grow to realize that we are not the only ones in the world, and that there is a bigger universe than the one we inhabit in our minds. We begin to grapple with the idea that every other human being has a life, and an internal dialogue, and a set of fingers and toes, likes and dislikes, emotions and dreams.

If we grow enough, we respect them. If not, we spend the rest of our lives cutting in front of other people in line, arguing vehemently for what we believe, and embracing our prejudices about what we don't.

The pinnacle of self-awareness is knowing who we are, and caring about who other people are. Truly growing up isn't really about ourselves at all, except for the part where we recognize our responsibility to be gentle with others.