wrote recently about my problem with losing at things. while i know much of that is driven by a self-image problem, there is an element that stems from… bah. screw the big words. i don’t have much interest in competing. i don’t get the thrill from it that pro-athletes do. there are those that get energized when it’s fourth and inches, bottom of the ninth with two out and two on. i’m not them.

much wisdom i have seen from the prophets boston:

Now if you’re feelin’ kinda low ’bout the dues you’ve been paying
Future’s coming much too slow
And you wanna run but somehow you just keep on stayin’
Can’t decide on which way to go

Now you’re climbin’ to the top of the company ladder
Hope it doesn’t take too long
Can’t you see there’ll come a day when it wont matter
Come a day when you’ll be gone

I understand about indecision
But I don’t care if I get behind
People livin’ in competition
All I want is to have my peace of mind…

“There have never in history been so many opportunities to do so many things that aren’t worth doing.”- William Gaddis

“The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.”
- W.B. Yeats

“It is hard to live in the present. The past and the future keep harassing us. The past with guilt, the future with worries. So many thing have happened in our lives about which we feel uneasy, regretful, angry, confused, or, at least, ambivalent. And all these feelings are often colored by guilt. Guilt that says: ‘You ought to have done something other than what you did; you ought to have said something other than what you said.’ These ‘oughts’ keep us feeling guilty about the past and prevent us from being fully present in the moment.Worse, however, than the guilt are our worries. Our worries fill our lives with ‘what ifs’: ‘what if i lose my job, what if my father dies, what if there is not enough money, what if the economy goes down, what if a war breaks out?’ These many ‘ifs’ can so fill our mind that we become blind to the flowers in the garden and the smiling children on the streets, or deaf to the grateful voice of a friend.”
- Henri Nouwen

Nouwen goes on to write that avoiding the trap of guilt about the past and worry about the future comes from communication with God. The act of stepping away from futile, anxious writhing over uncontrollable possibilities and speaking with God and allowing him to reassure you – because he has promised (and delivered) that whatever the circumstances, everything will be alright.

i had a feeling that i wasn’t mentally wired to succeed in an 8-5 day job. something in an office. something that requires a person to drag (that particular verb is assumed in the situation) themselves out of bed in the morning, put on less-than-comfortable clothes, sit in traffic. perform a task or oversee a responsibility that may be marginally connected to something they’re sort of interested in. spend the whole day there. come home, live a separate life for a few hours, go to bed. a common exercise every day that devolves into resentment while sitting on auto-pilot during human interaction, mentally ticking the clock in fifteen minute increments until you can go home, where the solace of the weekend flashes and is gone, stunningly, like a lightning bolt.

people say ‘find something you love’. what a copout. the tenth of a percent of people that get to do that were rich to begin with. who really, really loves their desk job? or, in context: could i?

no job alone will satisfy me or be fulfilling. in the context of existing in a corporate desk job environment solely to connect with other people, build relationships, share my life and be Jesus Christ’s ambassador… it’s a fascinating idea in context, but realistically it doesn’t seem feasible. my deeply rooted selfishness will drain most of that into bitterness because things aren’t as comfortable or as easy as i like.

is that seriously the only thing i’m seeking with passion? comfort? easy life?

so i’m sitting in the airport terminal, staring at the gates, a ticket to mediocrity in my pocket, and every bored, frustrated thump of my heart is an urging to run to another gate. be a pastor. go into counseling. sell everything, grab your wife, and go to the most desolate corner of the planet and serve the God you claim to love as a missionary.

none of them are easy or comfortable. that’s the point. fleeing the quicksand.

to escape my self-obsession, my zombie-like lust for a couch and air conditioning and cable tv… do i starve it to death?

i feel like i’m God’s sociology experiment. i’m angry that i don’t have the answer. that things aren’t easy. that i feel like i have the right to complain about anything just because things aren’t how i expect. i’m angry that i’m not rich and important, and i’m angry that that’s what i want. i’m angry that society has bred me to be like this. and that i’m blaming society because i don’t want to admit that it’s my fault.

i take a rational approach: in a few years our debt will be paid off and maybe i can go down a new path. so i’m complaining now but it’ll all work itself out.

did other generations of men sound like me? i’m sure none of the 50-year old guys that i work with – people who talk about their lives like they’re go-carts trying to plow up a muddy hill – i’m sure none of them thought they’d end up where they did. do they sit and ask, how did this happen? do they get short of breath, realizing their vitality and passion are circling the drain?

is that the end of every road? the end of mine?

i wasn’t meant for this world, though. the end of my life here is just the beginning. that’s what life means. that’s the answer. heh. who would have thought i’d be looking forward to it?