Photo credit: Quotes Gram
The time we have on this Earth is precious and finite.
I’m old enough now to realize this. To see this truth manifest in different forms in my life.
For example, I am now thirty five years old and by all means considered mid-career. I remember when I first graduated from university and the world was my oyster. Career time was infinite. I worked at a courthouse helping felons clean up their rap sheets and assessing the efficacy of sentencing repeat misdemeanor offenders to drug rehab or community service instead of jail time. I started an organization to help raise money for nonprofits. I traversed the jungles of the Philippines to interview survivors of human trafficking. The list goes on. The point is I was young and felt I had an unlimited runway of possibility. I was building things I believed in.
But now things feel different.
These days I am building a career. And at times doing things I am less than passionate about. Also my jobs have been so eclectic that it often feels more like I am making jambalaya. In contrast, I have friends who are experts at building a career. They know, or at least give off the confidence of knowing, where they want to go in life and with progressive LinkedIn updates, it is clear they are building a professional narrative for themselves. I am impressed and somewhat intimidated by this gradual progression. Like making a far away goal seem inevitable one step at a time.
Myself? Not so much. I have adopted a much more organic method when it comes to career building. I look for the random, for the fascinating, the unexpected. I look for what moves me. I’m a sucker for a compelling narrative and grand mission. I want to sign up for something epic. At least that’s what it has been about.
Then things changed.
I bought a car. I got married. I bought a house. Now suddenly my monthly expenses are on the rise. I have a mortgage to pay. Utilities as well. And suddenly I start to understand the logic in building a stable career, for it enables one to afford these major milestone purchases that we accumulate across a lifetime. Otherwise, walking a more volatile path injects a certain amount of “oh my god will I have enough money in the bank to pay my bills for the next three months?” type attitude that certainly makes one feel alive, but comes with its fair share of stress and anxiety.
I’m feeling the coming of my age. My hair starting to thin a bit at the top. My body more achy than it used to be (the lower back!). Seeking a good night’s sleep over a night out on the town.
I’m beginning to see and feel the limited runway I have. And from a career perspective, I’m beginning to see the limited number of moves I have. If I live to be ninety though, I still have a good fifty five years in me to get stuff done. That’s almost double the current total time I’ve been alive though so that’s encouraging.
Yet time is limited. This is an increasingly tangible, always inescapable fact. And I want to make the most of my time.
I realize that in life, what we focus on and what we do, we become. That is awesome and scary. It rings true to me. We adopt the beliefs and attitudes of those we spend our time around. We adopt the hopes and dreams of the culture we live within. We take on the jobs and lifestyles of our cohort. So what do you want to focus on? What do you want to become?
What if I don’t aspire to climb the corporate ladder? Instead, I want freedom of schedule, location and finances. I want to setup online ventures that involve a mix of business, technology and design to earn my livelihood. This is the job I desire. I don’t care about resume building. I don’t want to own a Vice President title someday. I want to own my life.
To do so, I’m focusing on the things I care to create. Writing is one activity I’m compelled to do. I’m making it a goal to write 1,000 words six days out of the week. I may not share all of it on the blog (some will certainly be unreadable), but that is a commitment I’m making to myself to start focusing my energies on the things I care about and want to become. So that ten years from now when I’m forty five, I can look back transformed and grateful to the younger me that decided to get some personal perspective and work towards what I truly care about.
If I have to get a job and write on the side for years then so be it. I will be following the path of many. I am passed the romantic phase of pursuing my passion alone and going all in. There’s a time and a place for that and right now that’s not me. If you feel called to do so more power to you. I am in a realist phase of setting up an environment where I can create what I want consistently and over a longer period of time, even if I’m not spending all day on it. The necessity to earn money figures largely into this equation. But it’s not selling out. I’m viewing it as opting in to playing the long game. To taking these things I want to create seriously.
There are books I want to write. Video games I want to develop. Healing retreats I want to lead. And more. What I’m realizing is these things get unlocked day by day through hard work, time, lots of failure and stability.
My life circumstances may not look sexy. I’m not single, traveling the world making a living from my laptop. And at times I feel like I’m forty years old from a life resume perspective (try raising a newborn and seeing how you feel after a week). But what’s on the surface of my life is only skin deep. If the “burden” of a house, kid and even wife on one’s professional craft may seem obvious, the benefits are glaringly powerful. You’d be a fool to count me out. I have aces up my sleeve. To play them though requires a different style than the sprinting of youth.
The good news is I’m now planning for the marathon to arrive where I want. And right now the path is the simple act of consistent practice. Practicing the skills I want to embody, like writing, and eventually create great things from. A more sustainable, patient approach. Day by day. It would have been nice to have realized this earlier. Perhaps I have in moments of clarity only to lose focus. But what’s done is done. And there’s no time like the present to get going.