Philosophical Adulthood

 anarchist adults in London (1912)

The nice part of childhood is the authority figures. The downside is that you have to behave and listen to them. The price you pay for the feel of being protected is your freedom. Conversely, it can be disconcerting to find yourself the master of your own fate, since it opens up a Pandora’s Box. If you're a philosophical adult (and the age at which you attain this status has nothing to do with any of the usual legal measures of adulthood such as being able to vote or drink), then you can say that only you know what is best for yourself and from this point on the integrity of the father figure, whether it be  your internist, your family lawyer, accountant, priest, rabbi or imam is immediately compromised. The reputation of the former mentor has to become tarnished for you to move past him or her and on to scale the heights of a professional career. If the world becomes your oyster then you lack the cozy feeling of being a clam, of residing under the wing of an all knowing master or leader. You may try desperately to recapture the feeling of invincibility you once both admired and resented in those individuals you deemed to possess greater knowledge, experience and skills than you had, i.e. those from whom you learned, but it's nowhere to be found. You’re like the seaman who’s been given shore leave and finds himself lost in a strange port. However, now it’s doubly hard to deal with the free time since you realize it’s going to last forever.