Maturity

Maturity is strange.  I was well enough aware that through much of my life as an adult I had not yet become fully mature, but the greater danger was that I would have become prematurely mature.  And perhaps I feared this danger because it had already happened to me in that unlike Western children I was never indulged or given leeway regarding my behavior.

I had to first break the brittle shell that had encased me through this mode of treatment.  This was my premature maturity that would have kept me small.

After that I had to guard against more impositions (taking on responsibility rather than exploring reality) so that I could develop an emotional life.

Finally I needed to explode, because I was a gum nut of a personality for whom the way to self-actualisation opens up when one is overtaken by fire.

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