Some things (i.e., facts) are not a matter of opinion.
Some men are really afraid of women's humanity. Some (surprising) women aren't helping.
I think I had a "mid-life" crisis, on and off--mostly on--between the ages of 20 and 35. It was not rooted in people-pleasing (as was Jess Zimmerman's experience, linked). As I've written before on these pages, my mother did me the great favor of being so overwhelmingly overbearing that I had no choice but to go my own way; it was live-for-myself, or stay under her thumb indefinitely.
I might have mentioned last year that I hosted a couple of alum events--one for each alma mater--and otherwise found myself in the position of dishing out career advice. I presented myself as the poster child for taking the windy path: not having a clear idea of what I wanted to do, and still ending up okay in the long run. I had my doubts throughout--sometimes it was less than okay, and sometimes I wanted more than okay, and sometimes it was amazing--but I wondered whether, had I been more decisive and determined, I might have been a rock star at something or other. But I almost-always came around to having no regrets. I agree with Ms. Zimmerman that it's a privilege to long for more:
Most careers have ups and downs, and you'll indulge me the references to Dar Williams--which I've made here before--to describe mine. Of course, I've referred to "The Easy Way," which as I understand it was inspired by a mix of career and personal events, to capture both as well, and the words that stands out are, "through the peaks and twisty canyons..." And then there's "The Pointless, Yet Poignant, Crisis of a Co-Ed": "I am older now, I know the rise and gradual fall of a daily victory."
I've had my peaks and canyons and rises and gradual falls, largely on a micro basis. I've had moments of "why didn't I take that other job" and moments of "this is it, now I understand why I'm here." Now, I have a major 'this is why I'm here' opportunity in front of me. It came from out of nowhere. As I was wrapping up my last project and looking at the new ones available, I'd fought for a decent one (there was a horrendous one looming) and won. So I wasn't vying for an amazing one that appeared. I'd already been assigned, and they'd want someone else. Except they didn't.
There is much work to be done, but I'll take the win of being selected for this. I won by practicing what I preached in career advice. I took on all kinds of projects--from crappy to mediocre to good--and gave all of them everything I had, from the start. I learned everything I could about everything remotely related, and kept up on things I was passionate about just out of intellectual curiosity. With no reason to think or hope that those things could become my job. And then they did.
It's going to be amazing and difficult and risky and fraught, but mostly amazing. Peaks and twisty canyons, daily victories, rises and falls. I'm all over it.
I might have mentioned last year that I hosted a couple of alum events--one for each alma mater--and otherwise found myself in the position of dishing out career advice. I presented myself as the poster child for taking the windy path: not having a clear idea of what I wanted to do, and still ending up okay in the long run. I had my doubts throughout--sometimes it was less than okay, and sometimes I wanted more than okay, and sometimes it was amazing--but I wondered whether, had I been more decisive and determined, I might have been a rock star at something or other. But I almost-always came around to having no regrets. I agree with Ms. Zimmerman that it's a privilege to long for more:
Concerning yourself with existential problems like, “Have I done enough with my life?” also suggests that you don’t have more pressing, acute concerns: feeding children, keeping or finding a home, avoiding being physically brutalized for being the wrong color or expressing the wrong gender at the wrong time. Even the ability to indulge a crisis is a privilege—it means you can put your life on hold.I had the first kind of privilege but not the second. I did not consider myself free to put my life on hold. It was the decisions and experiences resulting from the need to keep moving and working, and earning, that brought me where I am.
Most careers have ups and downs, and you'll indulge me the references to Dar Williams--which I've made here before--to describe mine. Of course, I've referred to "The Easy Way," which as I understand it was inspired by a mix of career and personal events, to capture both as well, and the words that stands out are, "through the peaks and twisty canyons..." And then there's "The Pointless, Yet Poignant, Crisis of a Co-Ed": "I am older now, I know the rise and gradual fall of a daily victory."
I've had my peaks and canyons and rises and gradual falls, largely on a micro basis. I've had moments of "why didn't I take that other job" and moments of "this is it, now I understand why I'm here." Now, I have a major 'this is why I'm here' opportunity in front of me. It came from out of nowhere. As I was wrapping up my last project and looking at the new ones available, I'd fought for a decent one (there was a horrendous one looming) and won. So I wasn't vying for an amazing one that appeared. I'd already been assigned, and they'd want someone else. Except they didn't.
There is much work to be done, but I'll take the win of being selected for this. I won by practicing what I preached in career advice. I took on all kinds of projects--from crappy to mediocre to good--and gave all of them everything I had, from the start. I learned everything I could about everything remotely related, and kept up on things I was passionate about just out of intellectual curiosity. With no reason to think or hope that those things could become my job. And then they did.
It's going to be amazing and difficult and risky and fraught, but mostly amazing. Peaks and twisty canyons, daily victories, rises and falls. I'm all over it.
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