You maniacs! You blew it up! Damn you all to hell!

Maturity is the growing awareness of our own limitations.

We acknowledge that we may not have possessed the necessary knowledge, experience or perspective in the past. And we accept that we might have missed something that was there all along, but our perceptions weren’t sophisticated enough at the time.

We simply didn’t have the eyes to see what was staring us right in the face.

I frequently experience this with authors whose books have had an enormous impact on my intellectual growth. I spend years or even decades devotedly reading their work. It’s almost like they can do no wrong.

And then one day, they publish their latest book, and as I voraciously consume the first few chapters, I pause and think to myself, what the hell is this shit? Is it just me, or has this author’s writing gotten more and more vague, mysterious and impractical over the years?

Wait a minute. Maybe it was that way all along, but I just didn’t notice. I didn’t have the experience and learning to trust my own mind.

This moment is complex, uncomfortable and poignant. My brain floods with feelings of disappointment, foolishness and most of all, grief.

Because part of me knows that now I must mourn the future I’ve dreamed of and planned for myself. I must say goodbye to the version of my identity that centered around certain things, and move on with my new reality.

For those of you who enjoy a good science fiction flick, there’s a trope screenwriters often use called earth all along. Tell me if you’ve seen this movie before.

The protagonists find themselves stranded on an alien planet after crash landing their spaceship. This mysterious world is entwined with dangerous and confusing elements like time travel, evil creatures, and unthinkable cultural and economic distress. And their fervent desire throughout the movies is to find a way back home. Sadly, their pursuit ends in a most disheartening conclusion. This desolate land they have been exploring is, in fact, earth itself, but it’s tragically been altered by war, disease, cataclysm and the inexorable passage of time.

Heston chews up the scenery in one of the best closing scenes of all time. He falls to his knees in despair, condemning humanity for destroying the world.

You maniacs! You blew it up! Damn you! God damn you all to hell!

Now, that’s a bit more mellow dramatic than most of people would react, but the sentiment is the same. Disappointment, foolishness and grief. This reality was there all along, but we didn’t have the eyes to see it.

The key to remember here is, how could we? We didn’t know any better. We did the best we could with the tools we had at the time, which may or may not have been adequate.

Only the forgiveness and humility of maturity will push us forward. We must thrive in spite of uncertainty because we know that’s part of becoming a complete person.