In the immoderate (so we say) planet of Tymek, the stages of adulthood are two. In the first, one sets out to conquer the world. One overextends oneself, takes on ventures that fail, and makes reckless public promises, including oaths for marriages that will detonate in demoniac divorces. One lays all their weight onto their probably-meager talents to find the shear planes. A precious few discover their own astonishing capacity; more than a few are thrown into prison for life; all make fools of themselves.
They supposedly stop when they have done almost everything they want, but are afraid of.
Most exit this stage in shambles, burned out, carrying lifelong regrets they might never throw off. To move onto the second stage of conquest, which is conquest of themselves.
It is not possible (so they say) to fully conquer oneself if one leaves the first stage without understanding their capacity. In this second adulthood one develops to the fullest the talents one knows oneself to have, and grieves that which one doesn’t have. But this is not possible without testing oneself – if one is left with uncertainties about which capabilities one is supposed to continue developing, and which incapabilities to rout around.
Humility is an utmost virtue in the second adulthood, and an utmost vice in the first.
When one is ready to end their first adulthood – whether that is at 25 or 50 – one secludes oneself for a month to shift their mind in preparation for change, reading and talking of acceptance, making modest plans.
There is one road to success in Tymek, and multiple to failure:
- To not test oneself to one’s satisfaction in the first stage, and so mar the second.
- To incur too many regrets, and live with lifelong wounds.
- To underestimate oneself in the review and live without appropriate challenge.
- To overestimate oneself, and live the second adulthood as an extension of the first.
Obviously people continually learn and accept their (mutable) limits throughout life. It’s very silly to actually try to partition adulthood into two discrete stages.
(It’s also unclear where kids fit in. It sounds like you ought to get the first wild phase out of the way before entering a stable phase in which you can parent. But (so they say) you classically change and discover enormous amounts under the pressures of parenting. Reproducing is something you want to save for phase two, but will make life more like phase one.)
…But it does work that way a little bit, right?
I’m 31. I’m not done with phase one yet. There are two major items remaining, on the “I want to do it but am afraid to” list:
- Starting a company
- Writing novels
The first has mostly faded off the list as I increasingly commit to other things.
I wish to write finish novels – a thing I have tried every year since I was 18, but failed at each time. I will be much closer to this imaginary second phase of adulthood when I either break my spirit failing, or find a way to do it regularly.