Friday, September 15, 2006
Oh don't sorrow, oh don't weep
Been doing some thinking, as I'm ought to do from time to time.
I disagree with Paul Simon and his friend Art Garfunkel: A rock feels pain. An island cries.
As some of you out there knew prior to this post, and now many of you do: I'm departing the MKE on Sept. 29.
As to where I'm going, I'm not sure yet...both literally and intrinsically.
The most probable stop is back to God's Country. But there are other options - irons in the fire, as they say - which could arise.
It was a decision that took quite a bit of thought, but, has been quite obvious for quite some time. It was the forest among the many trees. It was the tunnel at the end of the light.
I recently wrote to a good friend about this whole thing. At 21, I thought I knew it all. Many of us that are well-past the age of 21 now know that we then-knew absolutely shampoo-all. But (and not to pat myself on the back or brag or whatever...you all know I'm a different ball of elastic bands by now...) at 21, while I kinda knew what I wanted to do in life, I definately knew what I did NOT want to do.
In addition, I made a list of goals, most of which were either unattainable or unrealistic.
Jump ahead 10 years. I've achieved several of them. Others are close at hand. And still, others are far away, yet within shouting distance. And the career path, while taking different routes here and there, is still about as straight as an imperfect line between two points can be.
Am I the King of Spain by age 34? No. Has the Great American Novel been penned by 45? No. But I'm only 31.
(And while I've got some great ideas and random, unrelated chapters written, I'm thinking Monaco might be more my speed.)
But at the big 3-1, I again can take a wee bit of solace and a big slice of perspective from all this. One good person who I explained the deal to called it "clarity." I like that.
Between now and Sept. 29 - the target date to get on the road - I'm sure I'll have updates and changes. Both to the trip-tic, and to my train of thought.
The decision to move out here last August was, at that time, my most important. The decision to leave here trumps it.
I'm richer and better for having been here. It's my hope that the folks I've been lucky to meet here in the MKE are too. And now, it's time to go...
When I was 21, with that combination of invincibility and awkwardly senseless combination of je ne sais quoi and je m'en fiche, I thought knew it all.
It's so funny and also so sad...when I look back at what I thought I knew and, now, realize I never knew anything of the sort.
From one end to the other. From je m'en fiche then to a simple au revoir now:
Merci, a bientôt, j'espère.
This rock says ouch, this island weeps. Across the field of mourning, light in the distance.
yh&os,
I disagree with Paul Simon and his friend Art Garfunkel: A rock feels pain. An island cries.
As some of you out there knew prior to this post, and now many of you do: I'm departing the MKE on Sept. 29.
As to where I'm going, I'm not sure yet...both literally and intrinsically.
The most probable stop is back to God's Country. But there are other options - irons in the fire, as they say - which could arise.
It was a decision that took quite a bit of thought, but, has been quite obvious for quite some time. It was the forest among the many trees. It was the tunnel at the end of the light.
I recently wrote to a good friend about this whole thing. At 21, I thought I knew it all. Many of us that are well-past the age of 21 now know that we then-knew absolutely shampoo-all. But (and not to pat myself on the back or brag or whatever...you all know I'm a different ball of elastic bands by now...) at 21, while I kinda knew what I wanted to do in life, I definately knew what I did NOT want to do.
In addition, I made a list of goals, most of which were either unattainable or unrealistic.
Jump ahead 10 years. I've achieved several of them. Others are close at hand. And still, others are far away, yet within shouting distance. And the career path, while taking different routes here and there, is still about as straight as an imperfect line between two points can be.
Am I the King of Spain by age 34? No. Has the Great American Novel been penned by 45? No. But I'm only 31.
(And while I've got some great ideas and random, unrelated chapters written, I'm thinking Monaco might be more my speed.)
But at the big 3-1, I again can take a wee bit of solace and a big slice of perspective from all this. One good person who I explained the deal to called it "clarity." I like that.
Between now and Sept. 29 - the target date to get on the road - I'm sure I'll have updates and changes. Both to the trip-tic, and to my train of thought.
The decision to move out here last August was, at that time, my most important. The decision to leave here trumps it.
I'm richer and better for having been here. It's my hope that the folks I've been lucky to meet here in the MKE are too. And now, it's time to go...
When I was 21, with that combination of invincibility and awkwardly senseless combination of je ne sais quoi and je m'en fiche, I thought knew it all.
It's so funny and also so sad...when I look back at what I thought I knew and, now, realize I never knew anything of the sort.
From one end to the other. From je m'en fiche then to a simple au revoir now:
Merci, a bientôt, j'espère.
This rock says ouch, this island weeps. Across the field of mourning, light in the distance.
yh&os,
