Finding Neverland

[I'm not sure what I think of this post.  It seems to be lots of scattered ideas, and despite a few months of re-reading and refining, I can't seem to quite grasp what I'm trying to say.  But it explains in part why I love Peter Pan!  If you have any comments or suggestions, I'd love to hear from you.]

‘When you’re a kid, they tell you it’s all  “Grow up.  Get a job.  Get married.  Get a house.  Have a kid.  And that’s it.”  But the truth is, the world is so much stranger than that.  

It’s so much darker.

And so much madder.

And so much better.’

      Pick a destination, any destination.  Preferably that one place you’ve always dreamed of going, but never actually thought you’d see.  You know that place?  Or places?  I wish I could tell you that I’m here to take you there, but sadly, that’s not true.  What I am going to tell you is that no matter where it is, if it’s on earth, it’s been explored.  You can find pictures and stories and guidebooks about it.  You can learn anything you want to know about it.

     It’s not like that with growing up.  Growing up is much scarier.  And more exciting.   And there’s no one to tell you what it will be like to be you in two, five, or ten years.  We’re left to speculate, with no guide but what people let us see about themselves.  Which is not always very pleasant.

     When I was little, I thought it must be awful to be a teenager.  They had to wear such depressing clothes!  And they didn’t smile.  They just acted ‘cool.’  I decided that whatever it took, I was not going to be a teenager.  At least, not that kind.  I envied Wendy Darling more than I can really explain.  She got to go straight from being a kid to having a huge family of devoted sons with none other than the incorrigible and fascinatingly courageous Peter Pan as their father.  The boy who never grew up.  For that one adventure, she never had to grow up, either.  Wendy went straight to mother hood and skipped teenager-hood.  She got to fly to that one place she’d always dreamed of.  Yes, if there had been any possible way, I would have become Wendy Darling faster than you can say “second star to the right, and straight on ‘til morning!”  After, all it takes is faith and trust, and a little bit of pixie dust, right?

     My sister will tell you that I kept the window of our room open in all weather, even the chilly winter.  Never mind the fact that there was a screen that I couldn’t remove.  If there was any chance at all that Peter was a real boy, there was no way in the world that I would make the same mistake his mother made and shut him out when he came for me.

     Now, at seventeen, I’m still waiting for him.  I’m also on the other side of a good deal of growing up.  Of course, I still have most of it to go, I’m sure.  Claiming that I was completely mature would be ridiculous, as any of you who know me should say. :)

     However, at fifteen I had changed a lot from when I was thirteen.  And at seventeen I’ve changed a lot from when I was sixteen.  

     Books that refer to people ‘learning more about themselves’ used to irritate me to no end.  I thought, gosh, this is yourself we’re talking about here.  There’s nothing to learn!  You already know everything!  But I always had a sneaking suspicion that there was something to what they said.  In that case, there must be stuff about myself that I don’t know!  The thought frustrated and frightened me. 

     But when I finally figured out how to learn about myself I learned lessons from life that I know I’ll never forget.

     I learned that being a teenager is actually really, really cool.  I love my life.

     I learned that I love to think, and write.  Those passions will stay with me forever.

     I learned what kind of people I like best.

     I learned that I needed to love all people, not just the ones I like.

     I learned that I’m a hopeless, dirty, rotten sinner.  I can’t do anything on my own.  I need my Jesus more than anything else in the world. 

     And after I dragged myself away from learning about me (as fascinating as that is to you, I’m sure :P) I started learning about how the world works.

     Growing up is anything but getting bigger, wearing different clothes, driving a car, knowing more people, and having more responsibilities.  Thinking about it like that is like thinking of Neverland as nothing more than an Indian camp where people like to sneak up on other people while hidden inside Christmas trees.

     I think growing up is seeing the world in a different way.  Sure, people talk about how seeing the world through the eyes of a child is special and magical and covered with fairy dust and little pink flowers, and that is pretty cool, but there’s something different about people who have a little bit of life under their belt.  They don’t just see a pretty sunset.  They see years of memories of sunsets, and the people they shared them with.  They’ve seen loved ones in pain, and they’ve had their own pain, but that only gives them new eyes for what makes life beautiful.  They’ve learned how to treat people, and that they aren’t the reason the earth keeps turning.  They’ve learned who they are, and who they should stop trying to be.  

     Maybe I’m being too optimistic, seeing people through rose-colored glasses.  But if this is being naive, then I don’t want to ‘grow up’.  The people who have missed all this, like Mr. Darling, aren’t what I mean when I say ‘grown up’.  The people that tell you Neverland isn’t real haven’t learned anything worth knowing about life.  Don’t let them tell you you’re too old for Neverland.  That is a horrible thought.

You know where my one place is?  

Neverland.  

J. M. Barrie, an expert in this field, said that everyone has their own Neverland.  Growing up is finding your own Neverland, here on earth.  It’s that place you’ve always dreamed of.  We’re just growing into it.  And it’s so much stranger.

It’s so much darker.

And so much madder.

And so much better and more beautiful than you ever imagined.