Ramblings...

There is a certain air of optimism that weasels it's way out when things start to look a dim for me. At times when direction seems lost and the ability to reconcile feelings of guilt because I long for a more meaningful life against the stubborn determination of doing what I need to do because of commitments and obligations. The conflict isn't necessarily diabolically opposed to one another - but more in tune with being just stuck in a rut and the slope seems pretty muddy.

The optimism comes from just who I am. In that I can usually see some sort of silver lining even when the clouds seem darkest. And with that I am truly grateful. I don't necessarily feel "lost" but more of at a "pause" and all is still for the moment.

I can imagine standing in a winter field where the frost has highlighted the ground and the grass crunches as you walk with a icy fog enveloping the peripheral. The crispness of the air and the complete stillness of sound awaken the mind while marveling at the beauty of that very moment - knowing that this moment will somehow pass and a different backdrop will rule the venue - even if you never moved a muscle.

It's a lesson that life moves with or without you. The sun moves through the sky, the clouds move overhead. Sometimes it rains, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes it's cold and sometimes it's too hot. But then there are days when everything is just perfect and that is when thoughts of time standing still creep in. It's a perfect juxtaposition from those days when it's uncomfortable and time seems to crawl.

Even when things look difficult, life will still move on - the time line of all things slows for no one.

I know that I'm moving although I don't feel it most days. It's a slow journey who's speed allows for far too much indifference to the scenery. That work days spill into one another until a week has gone by, then two, then a month and so on. And when the moment hits me that I should be paying closer attention to what's going on around me, I find myself wishing that I did more, thought more, acted more.

I find myself dreaming of what I could do. Thinking about possibilities of sweeping career path changing of which the true investment and toll on my family are simply brushed off in my mind since they are negative thoughts that would otherwise crash this brainstorm. But it's for that very cause - my family - of which I find myself having these dreams in the first place. In that I believe in the direct correlation between being a good husband and father to having a perceived value in society.

Now don't take that too far - I do believe that I have inherent value as a working professional - to someone or I wouldn't be employed to begin with. But with all things, it's the cost of that relationship that I struggle with. I simply find it just not worth it. It's not worth the money or any perceived titular value. Who really cares in the end?

It's a shame that those career paths that have the best direct correlation between quality of work and workplace seem to have the lowest available compensation. Or that our most valuable asset, time, is squandered on such useless things.

Of that I am truly guilty. Too much TV, too much surfing on the Internet. Too much time thinking about myself instead of focusing on others. Too much time wasted doing things that bring neither renewed quality or pleasure to my life. Just time killed as if Pol Pot had taken over my day planner and started his own cultural cleansing.

As I've aged, "things" have become less and less interesting to me. I enjoy more individualized "tools" that help me live my life, but I don't see the value in the things I have. They can always be replaced and more often than not when I have purchased big items it's the thrill of the purchase that's interesting, not the actual thing itself. Kind of like a kid with a new toy - it's cool for a while then it's just a "something".

If my wife would let me (mainly for the safety of the kids and reliability), I would totally drive a very old car - maybe a '68 VW Van that was fixed up or better yet a classy car like a '67 Benz. Something that really only a few people had and stirs some iconic thoughts of a better time when consumerism didn't seem to penetrate all things.

I would like live in an older house in a old established neighborhood with a simple address like 123 1st St. Not the endless rat maze modern subdivisions that are impossible to navigate, have rubber stamped designs and whose claim to fame are the expansive square footage and the "good schools" nearby. I live in one of these right now and my street address is 25 characters long - it's a rather insipid experience.

In all reality, I do have inspiration and motive for change - I am in the process of gathering the energy to move forward into the unknown. And I know that in a few short years, I will look back on this tumultuous period of my life and know that growth sometimes comes with pain - and in my case the pain of being tossed around in the money first - people second environment that I've come to loathe. Maybe I should write a book about this one...

I'll keep you posted as things progress.