One of the comments I occasionally get from readers is “why don’t you ever post about your life anymore?” You see, once upon a time, ok it was about two years ago, I posted on a very regular basis about what was going on in my life. In fact you can still dig in the archives and find out what I was doing. Truth be told it takes a lot of time to do so and time is one thing I don’t seem to have much of, but we’ll get to that later on, I also got a bit burned out talking about myself so much. Luckily for those readers I do occasionally get a hankering to write something once in a while and today is one of those days. For those readers who come for the Tech content now is a good time to either expand your horizons or use the nifty category feature on the side to filter out this mushy/philosophic stuff…without further ado on to the main event.
I often ponder where I’m at in life and why exactly I’m there. For someone who’s only 22 why is my life such a mess? Maybe a better question is why do I even care? Heck, I’ve got friends who are older than me, have good jobs, and still only think about where the party is at on Friday. As I sit here in my office/bedroom (which is it really? that should tell you enough about my life to know I’m nuts) amongst all the piles of stuff (real and virtual) to do (real and virtual) I wonder how I could let life get so complicated so quickly.
While friends go out or partake in some other social activity I’m writing articles about blogging software, scheduling a state elecrician’s exam, sorting through quotes for theater ticket printing, preping a computer from my vintage Macintosh collection (that does it, am I 22 or 62?) for shipping to another collector, editing lectures from a EdPsych class (not for myself, but for future posterity in the Internet Archive project), networking with other technologists, learning about VoIP PBXs, wondering how I’m going to get recertified as a Cisco Network and Design Professional, setting up new virtual hosts on a friend’s server and worrying about my class schedule for next semester.
It’s not that I don’t have any fun or am a total recluse. Last night I saw my ninth grade sister in a school play, next weekend I am going to a high school play and a work banquet and I often watch movies with friends on Friday nights. It just seems that I have an inordinate amount of other stuff going on and an overwhelming backlog of it. To top it off I’m a full-time plus grad student and I’m also working. I must be completely bonkers! Sometimes I wish my life could be so much simpler, even if I were just doing grad school and working that would probably be ok. So why do I have all this other stuff going on?
I think it’s because God gave me three gifts: intelligence (or so I’m told), good foresight and a strong desire to help others. Each in turn is a wonderful thing but the three together are conspiring to drive me nuts. I see so many opportunities to help, I even stay away from lots of them, and I still find myself with a million things I’ve either said I would help with, am in the midst of working on or feel some responsibility for helping with. If I neglected some of these projects it’s not just me but groups and organizations I care about who would suffer the consequences. Maybe most 22 year olds can’t say they’ve contributed to society (online and off) as much as I have but at what cost do I contribute?
Somewhere deep inside I know that this is good for me too. I know the contacts I make this early in life are likely to serve me well in the future. Those with whom I share goodwill may one day return a favor and God certainly shines down on my life. At the same time, will I be that much further ahead? Is it worth the sacrifice? the mental anguish? These are the questions I ponder late at night as I sit perched on the brink. Either I will be the better for it, or it will get the better of me. It’s an odd and lonely place.
Lonely, yet another problem. For all the friends I have and all the people I know I still feel alone. Usually it’s at night when I start feeling utterly alone and think wouldn’t it be great if I could just pick up the phone and have someone there who I could spend some time with and talk to. The need seems to consume me, and yet I feel that I would be imposing on all of the things everyone else has to do if I actually made a call. I hate imposing on others. Instead I sit alone. Perhaps filling the time working on one of my projects, once in a while loosing myself in a movie. It’s a quick fix, but it’s not real. I know people care about me, yet I’m still alone.
By now you must think I’m pretty depressed. Surprisingly, I don’t think I am. On the contrary I have a bright outlook on life, I love the things I do and the people I know, I just get so overwhelmed. I need to find some sort of release. I keep looking but I haven’t found it yet, sure lots of temporary relief, but then I come back to the real world where I have stacks of things to do. Who knows if they’ll ever shrink, of course if they did I may ahve stopped having ideas which is an even scarier thought.
Ideas, there’s another one. Do you know I’ve taken to carrying around a piece of paper and have a computer file (actually) several full of things to ponder, articles to write and projects to take on. I think I’ve already collected a lifetime’s worth and I’ve still got a long way to go.
I’m so many things to so many people: a technology educator, a graduate student, a telephone central office technician, a php developer, a system administrator, a guy you call on the phone to ask computer questions, a network engineer, a volunteer, a sound engineer, a singer, a writer, a photographer, a videographer, an archivest, a librarian, a scholar, a friend, a resource, a musician, a theater tech, a farmhand, a mechanic, an electrician, a plumber, a carpenter, a researcher, a collector, a watchdog, an activist, a baker, a chef, a technologist, a ham radio operator, a lighting designer and a servant of God. What am I to you? How can I stay on top of all of it? All I’m left with is questions. Take a walk with me and answer some.
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