What is maturity? Is it the measure of how well someone can think for themselves? Is it how successful you are at attaining your own goals? Is it resisting the urge to tell jokes that you know are low brow? Or is it something else entirely? I truly don't know. A dictionary definition only scratches the surface.

In life, we find ourselves faced with immeasurable amounts and intensities of challenge. Some are self-imposed and some are thrust upon us. We all have our own unique way of tackling these things and henceforth overcoming challenges. Is our ability to overcome the measure of our maturity? Perhaps, or perhaps not.

What about the things that we don't face directly? What about the quarrels within oneself, the ones that are not seen? Seeing an anger built on the foundation of your very being, or other such emotion, and deciding that it is inadequate or otherwise flawed for the purposes of building yourself up higher, does replacing that anger with kindness or compassion or some other such thing worthy of the foundations that you envision for yourself dictate maturity? Some might say so.

Having come this far, we must recognize the milestones that we have reached. Many people now have engaged with the writing that I have put together, and I am endlessly thankful. I appreciate each and every one of you.

Maturity to me? Foreign. You have read 69,420 words.