Times they is a-changing. It seems that a generation ago (or two? Exactly where do generations stop and start, anyway?), work was a necessary evil. You were lucky to bring home a paycheck and breadwinners often endured jobs they hated, living only for the evening paper and weekend BBQs.
Now human resource experts recommend doing what you love. Such are the benefits of a free market society. Adam Smith's invisible hand letting self interest (go ahead and call it greed if you want) guide the economy toward efficiency, growth, endless choices - in short: the pursuit of happiness.
For insights and strong arguments in favor of this assertion, start with Hank Pfeffer's article "Danger: High Voltage" at Too Many Aptitudes.com, then read Marcus Buckingham and Curt Coffman's Next, Discover Your Strengths.
But it doesn't stop there. 's The Four Hour Workweek outlines the steps by which you can automate your daily routine and eventually outsource your life completely. That frees you up to roam the world and act like a millionaire.
I'm listening. Right now I'm working on automating my UVU English classes (assuming the newly-designated university has a shortfall of instructors and I get hired on again this fall). Students will submit all assignments online. The web page will automatically stop accepting submissions after the deadline. Backend PHP code will count up points and assign grades. Students will even grade each others' papers in many cases.
I'll still be stuck with teaching the classes, but that's the part I enjoy. In the afternoons, I'll be free to run along the river, write, ride my motorcycle up the canyon, sail on the lake, and live - if not like a millionaire - at least like a free, happy man.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Death by Appearances
I wish I was ordinary, but I'm not. I wish I was surrounded by a lot more people either more like myself or better or at least more distinct from one another.
Living in Utah Valley doesn't seem to help.
There are a lot of fantastic people here with outstanding intentions who serve selflessly and devote themselves tirelessly to good causes and high ideals. That's admirable. Some people say you won't find better people anywhere on earth.
But there also seems to be a lot of conformity. There's so much concern and worry about image that the soul of the valley has been poisoned. It begins with one of the most prominent valley institutions (BYU) and filters down into family life and social circles. The outer vessel has been so polished that it's nearly worn right through.
If I'm right and many people suppress their individuality in favor of a cookie-cutter image, then it may explain why major groups of my local friends seem so dead. It's certainly related to the record-high levels of antidepressant use and pain killer abuse in our valley.
Harsh words, maybe, but that's how it feels to me. Where's the drive? Where are the unique dreams, the daring adventures, the glorious failures? It's as if they believe that playing board games, watching movies, and going to church entitles them to automatic happiness. It's as if they're satisfied with a little entertainment to pass the time. Maybe they are, but I don't understand that.
Whenever I meet up with my Salt Lake Valley friends, the exchanges are so different. They're more interesting. More unique. People have different goals and unique interests and they seem more alive. They're more expressive and affectionate, less afraid of how anyone perceives them, more willing to speak up when their views differ. It's easier to laugh when I'm around them and I feel much more alive.
Then I ask myself why I live here and despite my substantial list of good friends and things I love about UV, I never quite answer the question to my full satisfaction.
Today I spent the afternoon with friends from out of state. We had *such* a pleasant time talking, sharing ideas and stories about our goals and dreams and adventures and disappointments and everything that it drew the contrast more clearly between what used to be average fare among friends and strangers, and what I usually experience in the local singles scene.
I'm sure it's primarily a matter of getting in touch with the kind of people I'm looking for locally. I know they exist. I have many awesome neighbors who are delightful to talk with. I meet interesting people from time to time and keep as many as I can collect as friends. It just seems too rare. It should be commonplace, the most natural thing, to meet new people who make you want to get to know them better.
Perhaps the people who are more unique are difficult to find because they, too, avoid the homogeny and so groups don't mix as freely. Perhaps the primary singles scene is stagnant while life teems elsewhere.
This post is a pure rant, though I'm not the first to voice such complaints. Call me mean or biased or misunderstanding. I don't care. I won't play the conformity game. I won't change my mind just because it's not nice to say such things in public.
When I first moved here many years ago I felt extremely frustrated and didn't understand why. I was used to people being open, unique, sometimes driven, often adventurous, and a constant pleasure to be around. Here I often felt suffocated, bored, and stagnant. At first I tried to respect these new boundaries but I can't live with them anymore. Now I see what's going on a bit more clearly, but still don't have solutions.
Living in Utah Valley doesn't seem to help.
There are a lot of fantastic people here with outstanding intentions who serve selflessly and devote themselves tirelessly to good causes and high ideals. That's admirable. Some people say you won't find better people anywhere on earth.
But there also seems to be a lot of conformity. There's so much concern and worry about image that the soul of the valley has been poisoned. It begins with one of the most prominent valley institutions (BYU) and filters down into family life and social circles. The outer vessel has been so polished that it's nearly worn right through.
If I'm right and many people suppress their individuality in favor of a cookie-cutter image, then it may explain why major groups of my local friends seem so dead. It's certainly related to the record-high levels of antidepressant use and pain killer abuse in our valley.
Harsh words, maybe, but that's how it feels to me. Where's the drive? Where are the unique dreams, the daring adventures, the glorious failures? It's as if they believe that playing board games, watching movies, and going to church entitles them to automatic happiness. It's as if they're satisfied with a little entertainment to pass the time. Maybe they are, but I don't understand that.
Whenever I meet up with my Salt Lake Valley friends, the exchanges are so different. They're more interesting. More unique. People have different goals and unique interests and they seem more alive. They're more expressive and affectionate, less afraid of how anyone perceives them, more willing to speak up when their views differ. It's easier to laugh when I'm around them and I feel much more alive.
Then I ask myself why I live here and despite my substantial list of good friends and things I love about UV, I never quite answer the question to my full satisfaction.
Today I spent the afternoon with friends from out of state. We had *such* a pleasant time talking, sharing ideas and stories about our goals and dreams and adventures and disappointments and everything that it drew the contrast more clearly between what used to be average fare among friends and strangers, and what I usually experience in the local singles scene.
I'm sure it's primarily a matter of getting in touch with the kind of people I'm looking for locally. I know they exist. I have many awesome neighbors who are delightful to talk with. I meet interesting people from time to time and keep as many as I can collect as friends. It just seems too rare. It should be commonplace, the most natural thing, to meet new people who make you want to get to know them better.
Perhaps the people who are more unique are difficult to find because they, too, avoid the homogeny and so groups don't mix as freely. Perhaps the primary singles scene is stagnant while life teems elsewhere.
This post is a pure rant, though I'm not the first to voice such complaints. Call me mean or biased or misunderstanding. I don't care. I won't play the conformity game. I won't change my mind just because it's not nice to say such things in public.
When I first moved here many years ago I felt extremely frustrated and didn't understand why. I was used to people being open, unique, sometimes driven, often adventurous, and a constant pleasure to be around. Here I often felt suffocated, bored, and stagnant. At first I tried to respect these new boundaries but I can't live with them anymore. Now I see what's going on a bit more clearly, but still don't have solutions.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Decisions, Decisions...
I'm faced with a wonderful dilemma. I have too many wonderful opportunities to take up my time, too many choices to earn a living with, and I can't fit them all in. So far I have two main strategies to resolve this sweet pickle but neither has yet panned out.
Plan A: do everything at once.
Right now I'm building extra storage space in my basement, fixing up an old sailboat (I tried it out last week and discovered that it sinks very slowly), building several web pages which could each be a profitable business and trying to decide which ones I have enough motivation to see through to success, reading a few books, writing software manuals for the company I left for my 5-week 2-oceans sailing adventure, discussing a merger of a current web business with new potential partners, fixing a motorcycle to sell, and several other projects.
The good thing about Plan A is that I sort of get a lot done. Until recently, my personal motto was "EVERYTHING! NOW!!!" Life was fun, interesting and exciting, but then I got tired of the constant effort without more deeply-satisfying rewards.
The bad thing about Plan A is that I don't always get a lot completely finished. Even when I do, I'm left asking the same question: what next? What should I do forever?
Plan B: think it through, compare options, and wait for clarity.
The good thing about Plan B is that I don't have to have all the answers just yet. The bad thing is that I have no idea when, or if, I will find those answers.
I recognize, of course, that it's a luxury just to be able to take my time and be so picky. I'm determined to do it right this time - love my job, love my life, accomplish something more satisfying and worthwhile than simply paying the mortgage for another year.
The problem with me, and up to 10% of the population according to some sources, is that I'm a TMA. Too Many Aptitudes. When you have an aptitude, you have to use it or face frustration. When you have too many, it's difficult to find an occupation that satisfies them all. TMAs, therefore, often skip from job to job, never really succeeding. They rarely finish advanced degrees (I felt pretty stir crazy at the end of my MA program). Society's round and square holes are rarely built for these parallelogram- or star-shaped individuals.
Yet I'm determined to find - or create - my hole.
I wish this entry had a conclusion. I wish I could spout off some insight that would begin to bring everything together and point myself in the right direction.
No such luck.
I guess I'll go hammer some boards together downstairs. Or program a web page. Or sail out on the lake and sink slowly beneath the waves.
Plan A: do everything at once.
Right now I'm building extra storage space in my basement, fixing up an old sailboat (I tried it out last week and discovered that it sinks very slowly), building several web pages which could each be a profitable business and trying to decide which ones I have enough motivation to see through to success, reading a few books, writing software manuals for the company I left for my 5-week 2-oceans sailing adventure, discussing a merger of a current web business with new potential partners, fixing a motorcycle to sell, and several other projects.
The good thing about Plan A is that I sort of get a lot done. Until recently, my personal motto was "EVERYTHING! NOW!!!" Life was fun, interesting and exciting, but then I got tired of the constant effort without more deeply-satisfying rewards.
The bad thing about Plan A is that I don't always get a lot completely finished. Even when I do, I'm left asking the same question: what next? What should I do forever?
Plan B: think it through, compare options, and wait for clarity.
The good thing about Plan B is that I don't have to have all the answers just yet. The bad thing is that I have no idea when, or if, I will find those answers.
I recognize, of course, that it's a luxury just to be able to take my time and be so picky. I'm determined to do it right this time - love my job, love my life, accomplish something more satisfying and worthwhile than simply paying the mortgage for another year.
The problem with me, and up to 10% of the population according to some sources, is that I'm a TMA. Too Many Aptitudes. When you have an aptitude, you have to use it or face frustration. When you have too many, it's difficult to find an occupation that satisfies them all. TMAs, therefore, often skip from job to job, never really succeeding. They rarely finish advanced degrees (I felt pretty stir crazy at the end of my MA program). Society's round and square holes are rarely built for these parallelogram- or star-shaped individuals.
Yet I'm determined to find - or create - my hole.
I wish this entry had a conclusion. I wish I could spout off some insight that would begin to bring everything together and point myself in the right direction.
No such luck.
I guess I'll go hammer some boards together downstairs. Or program a web page. Or sail out on the lake and sink slowly beneath the waves.
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