It is 25 degrees outside. It feels like 14. I’ve long since abandoned my winter self and winter clothes. The dog gets a walk so that I can justify laying around doing nothing, because that is what I’m going to do. This week, starting tomorrow–more busy BS at work and with contract work. Side projects, home projects, all kinds of things that need to get done, get wrapped up.
I sort of want to make NY resolutions, but I completely know how futile these usually end up being. I am, however, having this urge to do more, be more, than I have been. In other words, since I’ve become engaged to be married, I’ve stopped taking exercise seriously, taking my appearance seriously, with the exception of a few flare-ups where I kind of got into running/biking.
The urge is to be out doing something–running, biking, etc.
I am feeling for the first time in a long time a strong desire to set aside the past and focus solely and wholly on moving forward. This makes for boring content in my journal.
This is supposed to be a day of rest, but I’m a little edgy knowing how much needs to be done, and how much work lies ahead of me over the next month.
Once upon a time, I was convinced that something exceptionally meaningful, usually a move to a new place or job, was bound to happen every six years. Along with this came an important decision that stared me in the face and I would usually make the wrong choice.
This went back to the age of six. Now, I am upon my seventh hexade of life, as I turn 42 this year. Of course, many meaningful things, moves changes, and other important choices made have happened in the past six years, and in preceding years that were not in the year of the hexade. At 36, I was newly married, and we moved to Waco. We moved back from Waco two years ago, and moved to our house this year where I expect to live until I die.
Whatever choices come to me this year will probably not be the most significant ones I will ever make in my life–nor were the ones that came to me at 36. But, I also think that once you get past the age of 30, unless you are someone who perpetuates chaos, you have settled into much of your way of being and you are not going to make many radical, life-altering decisions, or have such choices even be available to you.
For whatever it’s worth, I really did expect something momentous in 2012, since I was 36, the product of two sixes. Something momentous was also expected to happen in Y2K, where I was 24, the summation of three sixes. Stuff did happen, change took place, choices were made and some of them have impacted my life for a long time to come, but the real change that has taken place for me is independent of any mysticisim associated with numbers. Frankly, I don’t change nearly as much or as often as I should in certain ways that could really be for my betterment, while I constantly remain inconstant in areas that sustained focus and steady holding to that way of being would also benefit me. For example, I am slow to move away from old grudges and past problems that I use to convince myself I am incapable of learning or doing anything new. But, I am quick to leap to some new book or area of study to avoid the hard work required to actually noticeably improve my understanding of a subject.
The stuff I’ve done that I’ve actually put in my 10K hours:
Writing crap like this
Surfing the internet, especially the news
Reading emails and responding to them
Fantasizing about the future or past, and how it could be/could have been different
Obviously, aside from the stuff required by work to get a paycheck, I’ve done very little of note in the 10K department–running happened mostly in my teens and twenties and early thirties before I was married.
I got up off my ass after writing this and went down to Town Lake and sort of ran. I shuffled along in the 30 degree weather, stopping frequently to walk. I feel better for doing it, especially knowing that most of a twelve pack of beer from last night awaits me.
There were more people than you might think down there, but not very many. Mostly the hardcore jogging types, with a handful of old people walking their dogs. I was the anomaly–a middle-age guy with a white beard who wasn’t just walking.
I’ve been thinking a lot about shaving my face every day and keeping my hair dyed. It’s sort of a vanity thing, but not the kind of vanity that cares what other people think so much as how I feel about myself when I look in the mirror and see my dad staring back at me.
Most of the time, though, I kind of forget that most of my hair is white now. I get absorbed in work and life, and my three-year-old son doesn’t know any differently about how I’m supposed to look. I’m sure he’ll say something when he gets a little older, but it’s not something I’m too hung up about. I really just like the idea of feeling as if I artificially paused time for a few years and became someone closer to my real age or even younger, instead of the age I see looking at me in the mirror.
I like the idea of an opportunity coming out of the blue–an opportunity that invites me to do something that utilizes my aptitude and talents, my passion and my natural willingness to give and work for something that is truly special. The opportunity isn’t just another round hole for my round resume peg, but a whole whose shape is yet to be defined for my full stack of lifelong experiences, passions, skills.
I think that I am more open to this sort of opportunity than just another job schlepping away at a computer, pushing the button to send an email to thousands of prospects who couldn’t care less about the company that’s sending the email. And, I’m the one who is the designated button pusher simply because others think they are too good for this kind of work, or they are too scared to push a button on sending emails that are as close to being spam as the company can get without being nailed for spamming.
I’ve been open to this kind of opportunity for a long time. Maybe I’ve been too pessimistic about my prospects of uncovering such an opportunity, or perhaps I am too fearful of how this kind of opportunity will ultimately change the direction I’ve been headed with my so-called career.
I don’t know. All I know is that every single person who invites me to do some kind of work for them sees me as a grunt, a button pusher, a yes-man, a real peg and cog. The idea that I could/would be a strategist, big picture thinker, ideas man, C-Suite member, VP, etc. is ludicrous to most people if it occurs to them at all.
Maybe it’s my own mindset that has to change. I tend to sell myself to get the lowest common denominator kind of next job, instead of thinking huge, and patiently waiting for something huge. I look for lowest common denominator next jobs. Well, I’m qualified for this one, so I’ll apply for it.