I'm one of those people who, when
someone comes to mind, I call them up or send a message for no
particular reason out of the blue and say, “Hey! Wanna meet for
coffee?”
Planning in advance generally isn't
my strong suit. Yup. I'm one of THOSE. I make people who plan
everything to the last detail crazy... on purpose. It's like a contact sport.
(I'm laughing my ass off as I write this. Ahhhhh... good times!)
I remember in eighth
grade my teacher telling the class we had to think about what we
wanted our career to be... for the rest of our lives... until we
gasped our last breath... or retired... whichever we were unfortunate
enough to endure first. On the long side shelf by the big expansive
windows that looked out on a picturesque yellow-brick wall were a
couple hundred career descriptions. We were to go over, mull them
over and pick one. Mu... mu... mu... what? So we all rushed
over for a look. Well, most of us rushed. Myself and a couple of
others wandered with what I assumed were some sort of glazed, deer in
the headlights look glued to our pasty white faces. I'm pretty sure
my ass was still glued to my chair three isles behind. Career? Direction? Goals?
Really? Really, really, really? I'm thirteen dude! I can't decide
what underwear to wear in the morning. Do I have to choose?
Shit.
Pfft... I still don't
know what I want to be.
BUT... I do
know how I want to be.
I often self-flagellate
through philosophically unanswerable questions. Some days I think I
have them figured out. Other days I think my brain will implode into
a synapse sucking black hole never to return from some alternate
reality where I'm a bagel. One of those questions that has come up in
my life (indeed, in most people's lives) is the meaning of life. Some define life by the question... what are your
goals? Again, I kind of drag my feet on this one. I'm
fifty-four. How the hell do I know what my goals are? Do I have to go
to the brick view window and pick something... again? Really? Ass stuck to chair...
Shit.
My
difficulty with goals is I'm not so certain goals are a great way to
determine how to live one's life. There is so much emphasis placed on
goals we have come to a place in society where, if we don't have
carefully defined goals, others look at us like we have horns, a
reddened face and a pointy black goatee. The truth is, I'm just not
good with choosing or maintaining goals. Neither is half the
population. The other half have lists that tell them where their frigging lists are.
I do have a pitchfork though.
It seems to me it is
far more important to know how I want to be in this
world than it is what I want to do in it. In fact, it seems to me,
knowing how I want to be is most likely going to determine what I do
and then I will have goals to strive for. Not the other way
around. If I choose a goal and it doesn't fit with who I believe I
should be, I will most likely fail. If I manage to somehow achieve
the goal, it will feel hollow. If I know who I want to be and then
choose a goal that fits that persona, it's much more likely I will be
successful.
Creating goals before
we know how we want to be is akin to learning to drive a car
before knowing the rules of the road. It kind of has to be the other
way around, ya know?
Choosing a career when
I was thirteen was a pretty idiotic exercise. I didn't even know who
I was. I was just starting to notice girls and trying to figure them out (which pretty much put the kibosh on ANY other goal). I didn't know how I fit into the grand schema. That didn't
come until much later. I recall choosing architecture as my life
career. Somewhere in high school, I switched to accounting and
computer science. After University, I went into restaurants and
hotels... then the steel industry... the medical rescue device
industry... the art industry... contracting. See where I'm going
here?
Turns out my “career”
is to learn as much as I can, hypothesize, philosophize and generally
be a pain in the ass when someone asks about the meaning of life.
(Best not ask. Just sayin'.)
There is no way one can
attach a goal to all of that.
There is definitely a
way to attach a way of being to all of that.
I guess the crux of
this is, if I call you up to go for a cup of coffee, don't freak out
too much. I was just thinking it might be a cool thing to do and some
synapses fired at the same time bringing your name to mind. And don't
worry about saying no. I get it. You've already got your day planned.
No worries. I've been told no plenty of times.
And I'm happy to have
talked and know you're doing okay.
Oh... and figuring out women? Yeah... that's one of those unanswerable philosophical questions... and usually when I feel like a bagel.
Namaste
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