Filed under: Adulthood, Christianity, Full House, Life, Society, Uncle Jesse
I’m completely serious when I say that some days, I can’t believe I’m a ”grownup.”
It’s not because I can still spend hours lip synching to 80s music, or because sometimes, I still watch Nickelodeon. It’s not my uncanny inability to keep my room tidy, or my undying appreciation for trampolines.
Really, it’s because I could swear that yesterday, I was wearing clip-on earrings, pink plastic high heels and a candy necklace, blowing out seven candles on a pink and white cake that was covered in flowers and filled with vanilla ice cream and those crunchy chocolate things.
I’ve been trying to discern; hoping for blatantly obvious divine intervention when it’s time to decide what comes next. And in the midst of this “quarter life crisis” and its early onset, I can’t help but think about how cool it was to be a kid. Slip-n-slides were a given every summer, and my greatest goal was getting a Barbie Dream House. Simple things, like watching Full House over a plate of cookies with milk, always made my day.
And speaking of Full House, there’s one episode that still sticks out in my mind today. (Fans of Nick @ Nite or ABC Family probably caught it recently.) Michelle Tanner, tiny though she was, was completely bummed out when Becky’s visiting nephew Howie had to head back to his hometown. It seemed like for the first time ever, Uncle Jesse noticed Michelle wasn’t completely content. So, he did what anyone named Uncle Jesse would do: picked up his guitar and played Michelle a song that he’d written for her presumably when she was a baby.
Michelle’s at home
The cats are purring
She doesn’t know what worry is
She’s safe and warm and she’s not sorry
She doesn’t know what sorry isAnd Michelle’s smiling…
Michelle’s smiling…Michelle’s smiling…The news is on, and Michelle’s laughing
Can’t make sense of what the picture shows…
She knows no fear, she keeps on laughing
If we could only know what Michelle knows…And Michelle’s smiling…
Michelle’s smiling…
Michelle’s smiling…
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: life is a series of mountains and valleys. Sometimes, practicing balance and trust in God is easier said than done. But as a Christian human being, I should make it my goal to be balanced and to trust God, even when [insert whomever's name here] is sick or dying, loses his or her job, has an accident, disappoints me. Even when I’m tempted to be anxious, or when I fail to follow through with plans, or, simply fail. Because sometimes, in the midst of what goes on in the tiny world that I know, I’ll turn on the news to see that somewhere, terror attacked, or a bridge collapsed.
Any one of us could argue that in Uncle Jesse’s song, Michelle’s laughing because she can’t, in fact, make sense of what the picture shows (partially because she’s 2, and partially because she’s a fictional character). But I think Uncle Jesses makes a pretty cool observation regardless. There is something like what Uncle Jesse sings about in lots of kids. Despite tragedies that touch the world, and mini-tragedies that briefly bring kids to tears (i.e. “He stole my playdoh!), the younger the child, the less inclined he or she seems to be toward worrying. It’s the epitome of the “live in the moment” lifestyle I’m still working on.
Ok, so back to today. All of a sudden, here I am, five months from my college graduation and four months from my 22nd birthday, perfectly aware that the world I know is a heck of a lot smaller than the real world. There are no more candy necklaces, no more dreams of the Barbie Dream House, and I’ll be honest: not that big-a-fan of milk and cookies anymore. Now, I’m trying to choose a grad school and trying to launch a career. I’m learning balance, and learning not to worry.
Of course, there’s no way I can claim to be worry free (and if you know me, you can vouch for that.), though I can claim to worry a lot less now than I used to. But I think it’s my goal – and it should be a goal for all Christian people – despite all the negative in the world, to be for society what Michelle was to Uncle Jesse.
She knows no fear, she keeps on laughing
If we could only know what Michelle knows…
YouTube it. (with tissues, maybe. Hey, it gets me every time! lol.)
Jack Black is probably smarter than he sounds. During a recent CNN interview, a reporter asked him about the inhibitions he must have experienced while filming Nacho Libre. Like any other fat slob would, he admitted being uncomfortable prancing around topless wearing Spandex tights in front of hundreds of people. I can only imagine the “what will they think of me?” thoughts that must’ve crossed his mind, and the unavoidable shame he probably felt in doing something he’d really rather not have to do.
“But then, I do a little meditation,” he said. “And I find the inner ‘who cares?’, and then I go.”
Brilliant, that Jack Black.
I’ve always been a people pleaser: one of those quick-to-RSVP, promise making, yes-saying people pleasers who cares entirely too much and has over-booked and double-booked herself more times than she’s willing to admit. And people pleasers, like I, find it excrutiating to say “no” or “I can’t,” risking disappointed remarks from let-down friends (and sometimes strangers).
I realized this morning that a lot of adulthood will require finding my “inner who cares.” It’s not selfish, it’s self preserving. I’m not Wonder Woman (I know, shocking!), and I can’t do it all. Some events will be skipped, some phone calls will be left unanswered, some spelling errors will remain incorrect especially if my friends don’t have the chops to correct my blunders without remaining anonymous as if they assume I’ll take offense to their constructive criticism, some friends might feel neglected (I’ll be back, don’t worry) and some TV shows will be missed.
I need to be more like Jack Black. For me, saying no is a lot like being fat and dancing around in Spandex. I don’t want to do it; but sometimes, like in Jack Black’s case, it needs to be done. When you’ve got more on your plate than you could possibly ever consume in one sitting, some food – no matter how tempting - has to be tossed. And that’s when being able to find the ”inner ‘who cares?’” will come in handy.
