Adult Change

Aristotle was only partly right when he said he could tell what kind of adult a person would be by looking at them  at the age of seven.

He was wrong about this, for it denies the possibility of adult change. I have experienced adult change into my 70s. I am not the man my wife married; I am better. If adult change were not possible, there would be no point in psychotherapy. My MFT wife would tell you from her own experience that adults do change, if they want to.

(Which reminds me of the old joke: “How many MFTs does it take to change a light bulb? Just one, but it must really want to change.”)

Take me for example. Everything reminds me of a story, and the story is always about me, I have been told.

I am, of course, very similar to Seven-Year-Old Pauli. I am optimistic, easily amused, energetic, and a gourmand. I still prefer Miracle Whip to mayonnaise. I loved to read and write, to an extreme.

Admittedly I no longer fervently wish to be an electrical engineer, a disc jockey or a television host (Dreams don’t equal talent). Comic books and science fiction, childhood obsessions, have fallen away.

“You learn something new every day… if you’re paying attention.” I haven’t always paid attention, but 43 years with the love of my life has taught me to be a better person in many ways. That, and my spiritual awakening in the last few years, have made me, I feel, a person that would not be recognizable as myself at 7.

I deeply believe in adult change and am tickled when it is change for the better.

For example, I took six weeks of voice lessons, and managed to relax my vocal chords enough to move from a squeaky alto to a reasonable baritone. I stopped getting hysterical laryngitis because I was using my voice properly. And the teacher said I was one of her best students ever, because we succeeded. So she put me on  her home page as a good example.