As an itinerate wanderer, I perfectly understood what he has to say about this period of odyssey, and I also had an instant grasp on how misunderstood this concept is for those who grew up with a different definition of what it means to grow up. My relatives often ask me when I will really grow up -- by this, they generally mean when will you get married, have a real job, buy a house, have a dog, cat and two children, be in a respectable amount of American debt, and mow the grass and join the gym like everyone else (although not generally in that order)? My responses are formulated and well-practiced as I, like Homer's hero, have been on my dramatic life odyssey for the last ten years. The questions posed to me that inherently define adult as something to which I cannot currently conform feel loaded and unfair. Traveling and working have not been without their challenges and glories; the experience of fighting cyclops or encounters with Calypso and Lotus-eaters characterizes Odysseus as more of a man than an aimless tout who does not understand what else to do with his life.
My odyssey has no doubt been part of becoming an adult (and it continues to be so) with lots of steep learning curves and many new realizations about myself, others, and the world. My beliefs have been challenged and my identity has been remolded over and over again. While these processes can sometimes be completely disorienting, they do not leave me doubting whether or not I am an adult. Reforming and refining one's perspective through movement is a sign of life, not of immaturity. Never have I felt more grown-up than when confronted with the cross-cultural shock and necessary adaptations of living in Slovakia while in the Peace Corps or when standing in front of a group of small children bravely entering the mire of the English-speaking world. Sometimes I am afraid and uncertain, to be sure, but, despite my marital status and lack of worldly possessions, I do not question the legitimacy of my life stage or current actions.
I guess I am writing this post because sometimes I tire of the questions and I am not always sure that the conversation partner understands who I am or what I am doing. It is discouraging and sometimes insulting to be treated as if your life choices are a childish phase gone wrong for too long. The Washington Post article was uplifting as a recognition of the validity of such misunderstanding about the odyssey years. I don't know if the new life cycle that Brooks describes demands that the adulthood stage following the odyssey still entails getting married, having a real job, buying a house, having a dog, cat and two children, acquiring a respectable amount of American debt, and mowing the grass and joining the gym like everyone else.
I suspect that it doesn't matter. Some of us were just meant to wander until we find our way to Ithaca. Adult or not, I am happy to delight in the gifts of the journey!
