As I sit here alone in my third-floor apartment on Halloween night in 2011, I realize that lately I’ve been on a renewed search for a sense of purpose. Of course that search has been blunted by as much rum as I can cram into the refrigerator but even the thick blanket of Sailor Jerry cannot completely suffocate the part of my brain that calls out for something meaningful to do with my life. As I look around the apartment (which, it should be noted, is 77 degrees today even with the windows open because of the ambient heat leaking up from my poorly-insulated neighbors) I see the evidence of many of my previous attempts to have some meaning to the world. They’re like little tombstones to the hopes of a person who only really wanted to be someone…
Between my elbows rests “The New Middle Eastern Cookbook” and yesterday saw the first-time preparation of three new recipes. Fish with Chermoula sauce was divine (p187) with the aptly named “Rice to Accompany Fish” (p 342) and Kousa Mabshoura (p 287). They were all tasty and well worth having again. They gave me a peek into the foods of other cultures and made me a more knowledgeable and efficient customer when next I venture to order food at an Iranian restaurant. The experience added to the sum total of what it is to be “Rob” but ultimately, they’re meaningless in the grand scheme.
Looking left, I see the Jared Diamond book I’ve almost finished. It goes on in much detail about the intimate practices of various species and describes how those practices relate to human practices in the bedroom. For the most part, it’s all fairly cliché and material that I’ve either concluded on my own or read in other literature. It’s all very edifying in its way and adds to the sum total of what it is to be “Rob” but ultimately, it too is meaningless.
Peering further across the room I see the book on Islam. It was very edifying and I still swear that I’ll finish its summary at some point. It will, I’m sure, be an interesting period in my life to look back on. It too adds, but ultimately it’s meaningless.
Today I worked another day at work. I slogged through the same relatively inane garbage that really does fail to challenge me in any way. My job is far too easy and despite the fact that we really do a wonderful service to our customers, that too is meaningless in the grand scheme of things.
If you add up all the pieces of a person’s life, one by one and end to end, how can you determine their actual worth? How many pieces and parts add up to a meaningful whole? On measure, no individual item that I have ever undertaken seems to add up to a hill of beans in the world. No one picture I’ve ever taken has ever inspired anyone. Nothing I’ve written has ever made a difference in anyone’s life. No line of code or documentation that I wrote in my professional life ever really mattered one damn bit in the grand scheme of the universe. Taken in this light, my life is a waste. Time ticked ploddingly past one grain of sand at a time with no one to notice or to care.
But I like to think that taken as a whole, my life has great meaning. Perhaps that funny turn of phrase that I shared in the hallway rolls around in a co-worker’s mind long after I’m gone. Maybe that smile I shared with a stranger in a crowded store turned around some part of their day. Perhaps my whole body of work, everything I’ve done over the past four decades of my life has inspired SOMEONE or made someone think or smile or love or laugh.
This is the battle that rages in my head. As I sit here by myself I think back upon all the things that I have most definitely NOT done in my life. I am no great man. I am flawed and lazy and in error and utterly a mess in many small ways and in many big ones. But at the same time I am devoted and passionate and caring and above all I really do give a damn. I hardly ever say the right thing but I am dogged and determined enough that I will try, again and again, until I find it. What I lack in skill I make up for in raw and unadulterated tenacity. I am a small and ferocious dog with almost impossibly dull teeth. It is with the balm of these words that I sooth myself from the ache of the “am nots” that roll so fluidly and effortlessly from my mind. I am not great. I am not wise. I am not powerful. But I will be there after everyone else is gone. I’m not the most fun or giddy guest at the party, but I am the one who will help you with the dishes after everyone else is gone.
5 comments:
I have to say I disagree with you...but it's probably no surprise to you that I do.
How does one determine the "worth" of another...or their own worth? What are the parameters that must be met in order to be "really be someone"? Who gets to define those parameters? But more importantly, why do we, as humans, ALLOW others to try to determine our worth? Aren't we all worthy? Aren't we all someone in our own ways? The struggle to find meaning or purpose is an age-old struggle and if we allow it to pull us down into feeling like we're not somebody, we might as well roll over and die.
Sure, there are people who have had a larger global impact than most people. Mother Theresa, Gandhi, Thomas Edison, Elvis Presley...but those people are no more important than you or the person in the next door apartment. You are who you are. You are true to yourself and to others. You care. You feel. You live the best life you can. You treat others with dignity and respect. You love your children. You hold honesty in high regard. You work hard every day to be the person you want to be and you try to help others along the way. There is no value that can be placed on these qualities--they are essential to who you are and they are "worth" more than can ever be defined or quantified.
I quickly grow weary of giddy guests. I never tire of those who help with the dishes. I'll see your rum and raise you a whiskey.
I also disagree Rob. Since the day I met you on the bleachers at the company meeting, watching those kids run around the newly created ballfield, I have admired your thoughts, humor, and honesty. As Laura said, no one can really determine your worth, sadly not even you.
I struggle with the same thoughts, but in the end I realize that I remember EVERY one of my teachers growing up but I can't remember many of my friends or co-workers names. So in the end what really matters, as you stated, is who remembers you? Did you make an impression? The answer to that is yes. I will always remember you and that day on the bleachers (and our trivia games).
So for what that is worth, you have made a difference.
Au contraire Rob. Dark Halloween thoughts indeed. But the truth is, ultimately nothing does matter. It's a great existential problem we all have to grapple with, but it is simply true. I find this truth liberating and freeing, but I have a *really* hard time explaining that. Reminding myself that ultimately nothing does matter, helps when I inevitably get all wrapped up in and drained by things I think are important...
"No one picture I’ve ever taken has ever inspired anyone. Nothing I’ve written has ever made a difference in anyone’s life." -- these are dead wrong Rob. While I must concede that your excellent awesome photos have not inspired me to *action*, temper that with the knowledge that I'm not so into photography myself lately... Many of your photos are in my screen saver. Did you know that?
Many things you have written have definitely made a difference in my life. I can say that unequivocally.
"Perhaps that funny turn of phrase that I shared in the hallway rolls around in a co-worker’s mind long after I’m gone." -- yes, absolutely, many things you say do. This is what first made me think you may be an interesting person, all those years ago at Software Artistry.
"Maybe that smile I shared with a stranger in a crowded store turned around some part of their day." -- this is likely.
"Perhaps my whole body of work, everything I’ve done over the past four decades of my life has inspired SOMEONE or made someone think or smile or love or laugh." -- Can't say 'love', but yes definitely 'think, smile, and laugh'! Quite a bit of all 3.
"I am no great man." -- personally, honestly, I am not so sure that you're not great... But I can see you're making an attempt at a balanced assessment of yourself here. Though I still think it leans a little too far to the negative. :-)
"I am a small and ferocious dog with almost impossibly dull teeth." -- see?? That right there is one of the sorts of things you say that will stick with me.
It's frankly very easy to criticize ourselves. I should know -- I have a hard time seeing my own positive aspects... most of the time. It is just harder to see the positive in ourselves for some reason.
So I challenge you to keep at that *balanced* self-assessment until you get it right! I'll try to do the same myself.
I'll also echo and amplify one other thing Laura said: you work *ridiculously* hard to be the person you want to be. By comparison, I'm a slacker at self improvement...
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