A lesson in life finally hit me this week after being broadcast to me for all of my 54 plus years. Why does life grant you these visions at such times? Perhaps maybe the question ought to be why I constrict my life with such a definition. Perhaps this opening is the topic for another rant / post.
But this week I finally learned the danger of DAY JOBS. Massive occupiers of time that misdirect the meaning of life and while allow one to survive perhaps get into the way of allowing one to thrive. Interesting that these words rhyme.
On Tuesday I saw one of my heroes, John Irving speak. By hero of course I mean someone I admire, which is to say envy, which is to say “why can’t I get it together like that."
Last night I attended a poetry reading for our favorite waitress. Smaller venue, smaller world. She was supported musically by another waitress from the same restaurant. The poetry and music were wonderful. Quite entertaining. But significantly different from John Irving. Significantly different from watching musicians who perform for a living. I love our poet friend, but in my rustic limited vernacular – they were the JV. Talented, but not ready for prime time.
Words said by John Irving on Tuesday night came screaming back to me. I understood the words on Tuesday. I thought I got the point on Tuesday. But on Thursday night the sky opened, a voice screamed at me and a point was made.
On Tuesday John Irving was asked to compare his books and perhaps name a favorite. Like any parent, he said he was proud of each and could not single any one out. But he went on to say that structurally, his later books were vastly superior to his first five books. He said the simple reason for this was TIME. For his first four books he wrote when he could between his day jobs. And for his fifth book, although he was a full time writer, he had not mastered how to manage his time, how to be a full time writer.
Day Jobs.
They get in our way. They consume us. Our current day process of food foraging and seeking of shelter get in the way of the pursuit of which is burning.
I reflect on things that got away. Why did I not pursue things that burned in me? What distracted me from the pursuit of baseball, of words of a myriad of things more interesting than accounting? Simple fact. Those that I know who pursued these things forsook the practicality of eking out a life over the pursuit of what they knew they wanted. They were willing to loose it all to get what they wanted.
My practical side forbade me from shooting the moon, damning the torpedoes and rolling the dice.
But this week I finally learned the danger of DAY JOBS. Massive occupiers of time that misdirect the meaning of life and while allow one to survive perhaps get into the way of allowing one to thrive. Interesting that these words rhyme.
On Tuesday I saw one of my heroes, John Irving speak. By hero of course I mean someone I admire, which is to say envy, which is to say “why can’t I get it together like that."
Last night I attended a poetry reading for our favorite waitress. Smaller venue, smaller world. She was supported musically by another waitress from the same restaurant. The poetry and music were wonderful. Quite entertaining. But significantly different from John Irving. Significantly different from watching musicians who perform for a living. I love our poet friend, but in my rustic limited vernacular – they were the JV. Talented, but not ready for prime time.
Words said by John Irving on Tuesday night came screaming back to me. I understood the words on Tuesday. I thought I got the point on Tuesday. But on Thursday night the sky opened, a voice screamed at me and a point was made.
On Tuesday John Irving was asked to compare his books and perhaps name a favorite. Like any parent, he said he was proud of each and could not single any one out. But he went on to say that structurally, his later books were vastly superior to his first five books. He said the simple reason for this was TIME. For his first four books he wrote when he could between his day jobs. And for his fifth book, although he was a full time writer, he had not mastered how to manage his time, how to be a full time writer.
Day Jobs.
They get in our way. They consume us. Our current day process of food foraging and seeking of shelter get in the way of the pursuit of which is burning.
I reflect on things that got away. Why did I not pursue things that burned in me? What distracted me from the pursuit of baseball, of words of a myriad of things more interesting than accounting? Simple fact. Those that I know who pursued these things forsook the practicality of eking out a life over the pursuit of what they knew they wanted. They were willing to loose it all to get what they wanted.
My practical side forbade me from shooting the moon, damning the torpedoes and rolling the dice.
I am comfortable. My feet are dry, I have no physical hunger. My life is happy; my needs are more than met.
But god all mighty, sometimes I am so hungry.
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