Hmm..it’s been a while since my last entry. Happy new year, everybody.

Two nights ago, while out of town on business, I happened to find Contact on TV. I realize that it isn’t a cinematic masterpiece, but it’s one of my favorite movies. There are many things about it that I like — the ongoing debate between religion and science, the struggle of someone who is versed in technical matters but unpracticed in politics, the possibility that someone else is out there.

What impresses me most, however, is that the film very nicely portrays the spark of discovery — that “click” when everything falls into place and the solution is in plain view. This happens several times in the film, from the first discovery of the prime number sequence through the realization that the plans assemble in three dimensions. It’s the moment when you finally understand the system you’ve been investigating, and when you suddenly jump from following directions to understating the concepts behind them.

I live for that “click.” My engine rebuild has not really saved me much money, and it certainly has taken months longer than if I’d just taken the car to an experienced shop. However, by pulling out the engine myself, taking it apart to the smallest finite elements, and putting it back together, I’ve gained a great amount of knowledge about the way it works. Now I can easily see my engine is complex, but only because it is a system of much simpler systems. It’s very easy to see how the modern engine has evolved from a purely mechanical system into one controlled largely by electronics. I can now look at schematic diagrams for any engine and understand what all of the parts do and how they interact. More importantly, should anything go wrong with my engine in the future, I have a much better chance of diagnosing and resolving the issue by myself. That is far more satisfying to me than relying on a shop, and it is really a priceless education. Taken from that perspective, the significant amounts of money and time I’ve poured into this project are one of the best investments I’ve ever made.

I’ve found that my career also seems to be at its best when I can work in pursuit of a similar goal. Taking on a complex system, understanding why it’s broken, and working to fix it are the activities that I seem to enjoy the most. At some point, though, the system that I work on comes into play. I don’t know that computers hold my interest the way they have in the past. And mechanical systems, while very intriguing, satisfy me more as a hobby than as a profession. At some point, perhaps it will be time to move on…maybe it’s almost time to try something new. Maybe.

Going to work in D.C. on a federal holiday is never fun. Other than the great commute, there’s not much to like about the city when it’s practically deserted and most of the stores are closed. Today is worse; we found out that one of our most respected partners passed away yesterday from liver cancer. He was three days shy of his 36th birthday, and he has left behind a wife and three young children.

I guess it’s just part of being in my mid-20s, but I seem to be increasingly confronted with news like this about people I know. It’s probably a combination of my expanding number of acquaintances and our increasing exposure to risk and disease as we get older. I have heard of close friends, parents of friends, and coworkers all experiencing loss in the past year, and the pace doesn’t seem to be slowing. Of all the ways they have died, none of them scare me as much as cancer does.

Choosing a new d irection in one’s life is, to say the least, very stressful. With every step I take towards finalizing my dec ision, I feel like my own self dou bt and inertia come closer to just snapping me bac k to square 1. I alternate from fee ling determined to feeling like the whole idea is hopeless/useless, or at best a was te of my time and energy. I’m trying to come to grips with the concept that a ny major decision will involve some uncertainty, and that the payoff comes from accepting the risks…if it makes sense to do so. After all, self-dou bt will only keep me stuck here in the long run.

Damn these typos. For some reason, I can’t get this entry to publish without those spaces.

Phew. It’s been a while since my last post.

I’ve done a lot of thinking in the last several weeks, and I’ve made some good progress, I think. There are some rather large changes coming soon. I can’t comment much on them yet, though. Still incubating.

Meanwhile, I’m also making progress on the project car. Expect an update within a day or so.

I pulled out an old favorite CD from my collection last night. I hadn’t listened to much U2 lately, and I found myself really craving a dose of The Joshua Tree. This is probably the third CD I ever bought, somewhere in late 1992, and you can tell — the jewel case is made of much thicker plastic than you find these days, and the CD itself has just the Island brandmark, the name of the album, and a track listing printed on it. None of the all-covering artwork that is so prevalent these days (although Achtung Baby had that as early as 1991).

Listening to this CD is like spending time with an old, dear friend. I remember buying it, playing it once or twice, and putting it away for a few months. I was more interested in Achtung at the time, and I was also in the middle of a small CD purchasing spree (we’re talking maybe seven of them), so there were several different albums that I was popping into my boombox. What happened next was interesting: I eventually amassed four or five U2 albums, and in the evenings after school I would just start to play them one after the other. I’m not sure what drew me to U2 (other than “pop culture”) but the endless repetition never really got old to me. Back then, while I liked the music, I never really identified with most of the songs. I could feel some of what was being expressed but I never really understood them. I thought I understood, but I really didn’t. And even through college, where I’d play The Joshua Tree now and then, I felt but didn’t understand. Although I thought I did.

Something’s different this time around. I listen and understand what’s being said, and the CD now elicits a very emotional response from inside me. All of the loneliness, sadness, and introspection just hits home more than it has in the past. So does the optimism, what little of it there is in The Joshua Tree. I can close my eyes and see the vast desert on the album cover, with the occasional joshua tree sprouting from the dust. It’s odd to think that four years of “real life” could do this to me; perhaps I really have grown, after all.

Life is an odd journey of both joy and sadness. As you grow older, the infant-like wonder and excitement of everyday life fade as more and more things become familiar. At the same time, the emotional journey seems to go ever higher and lower. As one’s accomplishments grow larger, so do the failures…and likewise intensify the emotions one feels along the way. I now see how music can capture those feelings, and how one grows to understand and appreciate art in all its forms. Just as an adult revisits an art gallery he once saw as a child with totally different eyes, one hears new things in music that simply don’t exist to a child or adolescent. It’s an interesting and weird revelation, one that brings up many questions…and makes me want to see what else I’ve missed in my CD collection.

You know, it occurred to me that I never shared our trip to the Bahamas, and now I also have some photos from our trip to Luray that ought to be put online. I’ll get around to those this week.

“There are some things we just can’t express - like how angry you can be at the specters inside or how much you truly love someone and can’t quite show it. Things that are better written than said. Or better kept inside than written.”

Scott Liles, from his July 3 journal entry

Love is a complicated, difficult thing. With no tangible qualities, love still manages to manifest itself in very physical ways. Love has the ability to raise one’s spirits or crush them, perhaps simultaneously. And above all, love is really hard to express. At least for some people.

When you are raised with the mindset that “good is not good enough,” and where mistakes are punished; when you experience life from “the other side,” the one that isn’t everyone else’s; when you find that you just can’t fit in the way you’d like, no matter how hard you try to be friendly; you tend not to take chances as you grow older. Reaching out takes guts and is almost physically difficult. Meeting new people becomes draining and nerve-wracking, particularly if you already know you don’t look or feel like anyone else. Even the act of calling someone can be an anxious moment, where you spend the entire conversation wondering how the person on the other line sees you. You stammer and stumble after the handshake, you hang back in groups, and you don’t dare open up to anyone, lest your weakness be exposed and exploited. It’s one thing to be introverted; it’s another altogether to be nearly dysfunctional.

Some people don’t mind or don’t care that they have developed into virtual shut-ins, making themselves inaccessible to anyone — perhaps even themselves. The lack of friends, of social interaction, even of clear introspection somehow doesn’t bother them. I suppose that’s fine. Even hermits have the rights due to all humans. Others, however, can’t stand what they’ve become. They hate their own reclusive, withdrawn personalities. They hate the “specters inside,” as Scott describes them, and desperately wish they weren’t so haunted by their own fears. They want to be free of their own chains, to succeed at “fitting in” and “having a life” and “living it up.” They wish they could at least read themselves, know what they want and what to do with their lives. Life becomes an aimless journey while they sulk at their inner demons for holding them back. They may even be superficially “successful” and “independent,” putting up some facade or fake personality to be a part of the crowd…but inside they are wrecks.

And yet there’s hope. Humans have free will; we can shape ourselves and our futures. People can learn to change the way they approach life and find that not everyone is going to reject them for being themselves. It takes time, however, and it can’t be done alone. Someone who is so used to being hurt is not going to continue to expose themselves unless they are initially reassured that it’s safe. Some people can pull themselves out with little assistance, but most need some prodding. And it’s not always an easy or pleasant process. One can be outwardly angry at being placed in an awkward situation, but the inner reality is really one of fear, uncertainty, and anxiousness. The frustration at never being able to enjoy oneself can’t disappear overnight. Like any complicated task, it requires repetition and a number of failures before experiencing the joy of success.

No one has ever learned to ride a bike without falling off, and sometimes it takes some reassuring pressure to overcome the fear of falling — particularly if you’ve fallen enough to give up in the past.

Ironically, the people one loves are often inflicted with the most pain. Self-consciousness can be a bitch, even to the point where you don’t want to fail in front of someone you trust, know, or love. You end up being more frustrated when you fail, because you don’t want to fail and you don’t want to let them down. You might even have a better time with other people — at first — because you are not afraid of disappointing them. I’ve never heard of a father who didn’t yell at his kids while trying to teach them to drive.

What happens, though, when your staunchest supporter has had enough? Everyone has their limits. How do you apologize, express your sorrow for dragging someone through coals that aren’t their own? How do you tell them that you wish it could be any other way? And how do you tell someone that they should try harder, when you know that they’re already exhausted? Doesn’t that push against the boundaries of love? Couldn’t that force someone to fall away, when you know they’re on the edge? When you love someone beyond comprehension or description, how can you ask them to bear more frustration?

When you know the end result would be perfection, a harmony of two individuals with no fears of the world in front of them, wouldn’t you ask for the same?

Half spontaneously and half intentionally, I picked up a copy of Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I was worried about finding the time to read, until I turned off the TV. What a difference! The funny thing about television is that it has a way of drawing the viewer into whatever is showing at the time. Even the most insipid courtroom drama becomes irresistable, not because it’s good…but because it’s on. I’ve read more in the past three days than I have in the last six months.

I’ve also reacquainted myself with my incredible ability to be distracted. It’s frustrating, but I’m trying to find ways to deal with it. Lesson one: When losing focus, “trying harder” will only lead to more frustration. I’ve found that taking a short break to see what distracts me helps to restore my concentration. Contrary to what I expected, this is actually much faster than trying to shut out all of the little impulses that make me want to check out all of those little noises or movements. The trick, of course, is to avoid losing myself in the distraction.

It seems that I am not alone when it comes to the sentiments I expressed in my last entry (but I knew that already). I find similar musings all over the place; in particular, one of my closest friends recently came across this entry from a former Real World cast member:

I mean, do most people feel completely empty when they think of what they do? Do they just do it because it�s a job, because you need a job in this world, because we�re supposed to be happy with whatever job we can get because of the job market these days? Are we supposed to ignore the fact that we all have SOME sort of calling, some skill that we were born with, some passion that is inherent that we are MEANT to utilize for the betterment of the world?? Okay, I know how dramatic this sounds, but let�s look at it seriously � we�re all different for a reason….

Yes, Lori’s writing style makes me look like Hemingway (which isn’t a bad place to be, in my opinion), and yes, she is dramatic almost to the point of maudlin. Our sentiments, though, are most certainly in line…and, by the way, she’s beautiful. Quite the hottie.

Lori realizes, as I do, that there comes a point where fulfilling one’s own ambitions takes a back seat to the realities of life. Perhaps the key to happiness is to find one’s way BEFORE those realities take hold and strap down the dreamer inside of us forever. You won’t know it’s coming until it’s too late, and the change is very subtle; those straps are tightened imperceptibly but all too quickly for the ignorant. I am somewhat alarmed to see that the intensity of my words and the conviction with which I say them are not nearly as strong as Lori’s…and I’m only a couple of years older!

For me, the problem lies in finding a direction. I suspect this is a common problem, resulting not only from indecision but also from the pressures of real-world responsibility. In my case, I think it’s also due to a chronic case of selflessness. It’s very difficult to focus on what I’d like to do with myself when I see two things about myself: First, I am doing rather well when it comes to capitalist, objective “success.” Second, I am constantly surrounded by immediate needs, like bills, trips to the vet, and obligations to my family and friends, that take precedence over my own selfish thoughts (mostly because of Thing #1).

The solution is simple enough. I need to find a way to be totally selfish and totally free of the “real world” for a brief period of time. It shouldn’t take long. I need to really delve into one question: What must I do so that I can be proud of my life when I’m 80? The first things that come to mind always have to do with raising children, being a good father, and being a good husband. That’s great, but that’s not very selfish. I need to learn what I must do for myself. Once I’m comfortable with my personal goals and my personal direction in life, I think the rest of the world will be a piece of cake. I’ve always been good to others, but I think I’ve forgotten about being good to myself first.

Sooo…how do I do this?

Inertia is strangely powerful, able to hold people back from pursuing their dreams when nothing else seems to be in the way. The fear of uncertainty and a lack of confidence inevitably leave us stuck in the quagmire of our daily grinds, hoping for a better tomorrow but secretly knowing that it’s not getting any better. Sometimes the curse is not to have a bad life, but simply a mediocre or marginally satisfying one — people in awful situations try harder to escape, while those who are merely discontent may put off change indefinitely in favor of security. I think most people land here at some point in their lives and decide to stay, reluctant to change due to increasing commitments…or perhaps just inertia. Those who attempt change often do so only halfheartedly or tentatively, which almost guarantees failure and simply reinforces the negatively comforting force of inertia.

I don’t want to be stuck.

I’ve done my share of beating on, trying timidly to fight the current, but so far I haven’t been successful — so far, I’ve remained in Gatsby’s waters, longing to come to shore and partake of his “fresh, green breast of the new world.” What I need is to find my beacon, a goal towards which I can pour my entire being. I’ve spent enough time watching time pass, idling through life with no discernable purpose. Some people are content with this, but I am not. I have to find my purpose and fulfill it. How do I find my purpose?

In a renewed effort to find my way in life (more on that later), I have taken several back-of-the-envelope personality sorters online. The majority of them point me to the Myers-Briggs classification of INTP - introverted, intuitive, thinking, perceiving. I was split 59/41 in favor of intuitive (versus sensing), but all others were indicated quite strongly. I don’t know that I buy into all of this personality profile theory, but one particular description of an INTP fits me rather well.

So what does this mean, and what do I do with it? The eventual goal here is to find a more fulfilling path for myself…but, like I said, more on that later. For now, it’s back to work….