On Thanks and Giving
Several weeks ago, after publishing my last post, I realized that October was at an end. It was a realization that I reacted to with a strangely mixed emotion. For one thing, it meant that my fortnight in Texas--a trip I have been reticent about, for no particular reason--was about to end, and this did not make me particularly happy. But it also meant that November was about to begin, and November meant the beginning of autumn's wane into winter. And though I am not a fan of winter, I am an outspoken fan of the holiday season.
It also meant the beginning of a month in which casual writers the world over buckle down and commit themselves to a professional-like writing schedule. Some tackle that long-brewing novel in their heads, others strive to compose one new entry to their blog per day. Whether they commit to NaNoWriMo or NaBloPoMo or any of the other NaWhoKnowsMos, a not-professional-but-sure-would-like-to-be writer such as myself can't help but be inspired by such an endeavor. As for me, I pretty much knew I would not be able to commit to a daily blog posting (I rarely have anything that interesting to say), nor did I suspect I would be able to stick to a daily writing schedule while working on the novel (my unscheduled life, nice though it may seem, rarely leaves me the time to settle down and be free to just write). It was a bizarre realization, honestly: me, with no schedule, unable to use a month where everyone artificially creates a schedule in order to, you know, begin establishing a schedule. That, my friends, is a very special kind of screwed up.
But while October, and particularly its end, was rather spectacular, the current month has not, by and large, been a negative one. Once the glow of Texas wore off and I realized that I was no longer there and that I needed to settle back in to what my life has turned into (for better or worse), things started coming together in the most unusual way. It occurred to me that, with the holidays forthcoming, I could use some source of income to be able to finance the holiday gifts I was planning on getting for people. Because, truth be told, I find the giving part of the holiday season to be much more rewarding than the receiving. It's nice to put thought into getting something for someone, and the effort I place into my gift-giving makes me feel a lot better about the commercialization of the holidays: suddenly, a venture to the mall isn't a trial, it's an adventure. To me, the magic of the holiday season is the genuine spirit of altruism that infects us all for that sadly short period of time--and wouldn't we all be a little better off if we were more altruistic?
When it came time to settle in and get what I had framed in my mind as "just any old job," I hit a major mental snag. I had printed out the application for a particular retail establishment (whose name I've opted to omit) and began filling it out when I was overcome with a powerful sense of defeat. Had it really come to this? I thought. I mean, don't get me wrong, I have very little to complain about in my life, and the things I do complain about are pretty small potatoes in the grand scheme. And sure, no one ever likes to hear an Ivy Leaguer complain about anything (because, unbeknownst to me, the words on your diploma limit or delimit what you can and can't do in your everyday life), but I was disheartened. Sure, the economy's tough, but I really thought my education would give me an edge in an exceptionally competitive environment, and it hurt that, to that point, it hadn't. It was that strange mingling of pride and denial that kept me from completing the aforementioned application. I had dived headlong into an existential crisis and I did not like it.
It is perhaps appropriate then that, in the midst of my greatest hopelessness, I should find the most poignant restoration of my faith. For lack of a better term, I bitched openly to several of my closest friends, one of whom mentioned that, though it was not my area of expertise, her company was hiring and that she could arrange for me to have an interview if I was interested. There was a risk involved, as the position would entail relocating to the Washington, DC, area, but there was also a set of opportunities opening up that I hadn't been presented with in the six months preceding this. So I took her up on the offer, and found myself in DC a week later for the interview.
Now I find myself in New Jersey again. Employed. In the process of planning my relocation. And preparing for the greatest life change I have known so far.
Of course, those who have made the transition before will, like so many others, argue that I still have nothing to complain about now. And this, for the most part, is true. It would be unkind and untrue to say that I'm "complaining" about what's soon to transpire; the fact is, I'm thrilled to pieces. It's the beginning of a career, it's a chance to assert my independence, it's an opportunity to see a new part of the country. But most importantly, it's a chance to prove that I have what it takes to do the growing up that I don't truly think many people believe I'm capable of yet. And sure, it's alarming to think that I have a lot of growing up to do, and that I haven't really had the opportunity yet at age 24 to have to start growing up. But the time has come to start proving the naysayers wrong.
The fact of the matter is that I've reached the point in my life where I need to start staking out what I want my life to look like. I've been complacent for too long, not because it's been in my nature but because I haven't really had to be anything but. I realize now that most of the things I've wanted out of my life--except, perhaps, my choice of graduate school--have gone the way I wanted by virtue of my desire and effort. But sometimes, desire and effort just aren't enough. I wanted to work in publishing, and I applied to most every position I was interested in and qualified for over six months...and it still didn't happen. But that's life. And sure, the common expression is "Shit happens," but not everything that doesn't exactly go your way is shit.
I prefer Karen's variation: "Life happens." Because that's what most of life is: you plan and you plan and you hope things will go that way, but you also need to be prepared for the unexpected. The people who succeed aren't just the ones who work hard and dream big and do all they can to make it happen; they also know how to roll with the things that don't quite go the way they'd hoped. They stay true to themselves even when the chips fall the wrong way. One of my idols, Walt Disney, failed miserably at almost every turn as a cartoonist, being accused by one of his editors of lacking creativity and having no good ideas. But he stuck with his work, made the best of what he had, and ultimately created one of the most recognizable images the world has ever known.
But more than that, he knew the value of risk. An old story says that he sold his prized possession, his camera, in order to buy a train ticket to Hollywood, where he hoped to go to set up his studio. It didn't matter that failure would have left him with nothing, or that he had already had one attempt at starting a studio fail. He had to take a chance to accomplish what he dreamed of, and he took it. And with greatest risk comes greatest reward.
The time finally felt right for me to take that risk, to take a chance on staking out on my own. Who knows how it'll go, or what will become of it? I know what I'd like to see happen, and I'll try my damnedest to see it through, but the bottom line is that I'll never make it happen if I don't try. So here I go. Time to jump, sink or swim.
So this holiday season is especially significant, and particularly bittersweet. My uncle's job has necessitated what is shaping up to be a permanent move for the whole family from New Jersey to Florida. Going to their house for Thanksgiving and Christmas has been a long-standing tradition, one that we all look forward to each year. But now, between my impending move to Virginia, their likely move to Miami, and the myriad other changes that I've observed in my little suburban hometown, things look like they're about to take a drastic turn. I don't know much, but I know 2010 is going to look a lot different than 2009 did.
I'm glad, though. 2009, in retrospect, has treated me a lot better than 2008 did. And I had no reason to believe this year would really be much better. My life twelve months ago looked very different than it does now, and I'm very glad it does. Despite the bumps in the road, I'm going in a positive direction, and I realize I have a lot of positive things and people surrounding me, influences that are guiding me and helping me and supporting me throughout the maze-like twists and turns I'm experiencing now.
I don't feel nearly as alone as I used to.
That alone is more than enough cause to feel generous, more than enough reason to be thankful. So while the pages of the calendar may have been flipping a little faster than I'd really taken note of, and I've perhaps been a bit hesitant to embrace the spirit of the holidays this year, I know in my heart that the time and the season are lining up pretty darn well this year. And while I tend to shun the winter chill and dread the coming of the cold, this time around, I've got a good fire going in my soul and I've got a lot to look forward to.
It also meant the beginning of a month in which casual writers the world over buckle down and commit themselves to a professional-like writing schedule. Some tackle that long-brewing novel in their heads, others strive to compose one new entry to their blog per day. Whether they commit to NaNoWriMo or NaBloPoMo or any of the other NaWhoKnowsMos, a not-professional-but-sure-would-like-to-be writer such as myself can't help but be inspired by such an endeavor. As for me, I pretty much knew I would not be able to commit to a daily blog posting (I rarely have anything that interesting to say), nor did I suspect I would be able to stick to a daily writing schedule while working on the novel (my unscheduled life, nice though it may seem, rarely leaves me the time to settle down and be free to just write). It was a bizarre realization, honestly: me, with no schedule, unable to use a month where everyone artificially creates a schedule in order to, you know, begin establishing a schedule. That, my friends, is a very special kind of screwed up.
But while October, and particularly its end, was rather spectacular, the current month has not, by and large, been a negative one. Once the glow of Texas wore off and I realized that I was no longer there and that I needed to settle back in to what my life has turned into (for better or worse), things started coming together in the most unusual way. It occurred to me that, with the holidays forthcoming, I could use some source of income to be able to finance the holiday gifts I was planning on getting for people. Because, truth be told, I find the giving part of the holiday season to be much more rewarding than the receiving. It's nice to put thought into getting something for someone, and the effort I place into my gift-giving makes me feel a lot better about the commercialization of the holidays: suddenly, a venture to the mall isn't a trial, it's an adventure. To me, the magic of the holiday season is the genuine spirit of altruism that infects us all for that sadly short period of time--and wouldn't we all be a little better off if we were more altruistic?
When it came time to settle in and get what I had framed in my mind as "just any old job," I hit a major mental snag. I had printed out the application for a particular retail establishment (whose name I've opted to omit) and began filling it out when I was overcome with a powerful sense of defeat. Had it really come to this? I thought. I mean, don't get me wrong, I have very little to complain about in my life, and the things I do complain about are pretty small potatoes in the grand scheme. And sure, no one ever likes to hear an Ivy Leaguer complain about anything (because, unbeknownst to me, the words on your diploma limit or delimit what you can and can't do in your everyday life), but I was disheartened. Sure, the economy's tough, but I really thought my education would give me an edge in an exceptionally competitive environment, and it hurt that, to that point, it hadn't. It was that strange mingling of pride and denial that kept me from completing the aforementioned application. I had dived headlong into an existential crisis and I did not like it.
It is perhaps appropriate then that, in the midst of my greatest hopelessness, I should find the most poignant restoration of my faith. For lack of a better term, I bitched openly to several of my closest friends, one of whom mentioned that, though it was not my area of expertise, her company was hiring and that she could arrange for me to have an interview if I was interested. There was a risk involved, as the position would entail relocating to the Washington, DC, area, but there was also a set of opportunities opening up that I hadn't been presented with in the six months preceding this. So I took her up on the offer, and found myself in DC a week later for the interview.
Now I find myself in New Jersey again. Employed. In the process of planning my relocation. And preparing for the greatest life change I have known so far.
Of course, those who have made the transition before will, like so many others, argue that I still have nothing to complain about now. And this, for the most part, is true. It would be unkind and untrue to say that I'm "complaining" about what's soon to transpire; the fact is, I'm thrilled to pieces. It's the beginning of a career, it's a chance to assert my independence, it's an opportunity to see a new part of the country. But most importantly, it's a chance to prove that I have what it takes to do the growing up that I don't truly think many people believe I'm capable of yet. And sure, it's alarming to think that I have a lot of growing up to do, and that I haven't really had the opportunity yet at age 24 to have to start growing up. But the time has come to start proving the naysayers wrong.
The fact of the matter is that I've reached the point in my life where I need to start staking out what I want my life to look like. I've been complacent for too long, not because it's been in my nature but because I haven't really had to be anything but. I realize now that most of the things I've wanted out of my life--except, perhaps, my choice of graduate school--have gone the way I wanted by virtue of my desire and effort. But sometimes, desire and effort just aren't enough. I wanted to work in publishing, and I applied to most every position I was interested in and qualified for over six months...and it still didn't happen. But that's life. And sure, the common expression is "Shit happens," but not everything that doesn't exactly go your way is shit.
I prefer Karen's variation: "Life happens." Because that's what most of life is: you plan and you plan and you hope things will go that way, but you also need to be prepared for the unexpected. The people who succeed aren't just the ones who work hard and dream big and do all they can to make it happen; they also know how to roll with the things that don't quite go the way they'd hoped. They stay true to themselves even when the chips fall the wrong way. One of my idols, Walt Disney, failed miserably at almost every turn as a cartoonist, being accused by one of his editors of lacking creativity and having no good ideas. But he stuck with his work, made the best of what he had, and ultimately created one of the most recognizable images the world has ever known.
But more than that, he knew the value of risk. An old story says that he sold his prized possession, his camera, in order to buy a train ticket to Hollywood, where he hoped to go to set up his studio. It didn't matter that failure would have left him with nothing, or that he had already had one attempt at starting a studio fail. He had to take a chance to accomplish what he dreamed of, and he took it. And with greatest risk comes greatest reward.
The time finally felt right for me to take that risk, to take a chance on staking out on my own. Who knows how it'll go, or what will become of it? I know what I'd like to see happen, and I'll try my damnedest to see it through, but the bottom line is that I'll never make it happen if I don't try. So here I go. Time to jump, sink or swim.
So this holiday season is especially significant, and particularly bittersweet. My uncle's job has necessitated what is shaping up to be a permanent move for the whole family from New Jersey to Florida. Going to their house for Thanksgiving and Christmas has been a long-standing tradition, one that we all look forward to each year. But now, between my impending move to Virginia, their likely move to Miami, and the myriad other changes that I've observed in my little suburban hometown, things look like they're about to take a drastic turn. I don't know much, but I know 2010 is going to look a lot different than 2009 did.
I'm glad, though. 2009, in retrospect, has treated me a lot better than 2008 did. And I had no reason to believe this year would really be much better. My life twelve months ago looked very different than it does now, and I'm very glad it does. Despite the bumps in the road, I'm going in a positive direction, and I realize I have a lot of positive things and people surrounding me, influences that are guiding me and helping me and supporting me throughout the maze-like twists and turns I'm experiencing now.
I don't feel nearly as alone as I used to.
That alone is more than enough cause to feel generous, more than enough reason to be thankful. So while the pages of the calendar may have been flipping a little faster than I'd really taken note of, and I've perhaps been a bit hesitant to embrace the spirit of the holidays this year, I know in my heart that the time and the season are lining up pretty darn well this year. And while I tend to shun the winter chill and dread the coming of the cold, this time around, I've got a good fire going in my soul and I've got a lot to look forward to.
posted by Dave at 11/23/2009 02:49:00 PM
2 Comments:
Sounds like the last three years of my life. Moving to Georgia, opening my own business....Wish you luck!
Good read! :) I'm glad things are looking up for you Dave!! Hopefully 2010 is different in a good way... for all of us! I've come to notice that every bump in the road is a blessing in disguise. Staying positive is the BEST thing you can do in life, no matter what it throws your way! (There, it's posted here too!)
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