My Eternal Dilemma

I've been here before.

I look at my "to do" list, and there's the usual range of mundane stuff.  I've got to put away laundry.  Do some grocery shopping.  Pay some bills.  Prepare for my D&D game.  Okay, maybe that last one isn't so mundane.

But that leads into the other part of the "to do" list that encapsulates my eternal dilemma:

• Start re-reading The Artist's Way.
• Resume my Masterclass in writing.
• Build some custom Magic: the Gathering decks.
• Work on my personal programming project.
• Learn the key idioms of Java 8. 
• Draw maps for the D&D adventure I wrote for the Adventurer's League.

And it's a good thing I've already memorized all my lines for Hamlet...  (Though I could do to review the blocking and do a little thinking about how things change as a result of the work we did at the last rehearsal.)

I want to be a better software developer/software development manager.  I want to enjoy time gaming and be competitive when I'm playing against other people.  I want to be a better writer -- hell, I guess it's fair to say I want to be a writer at all.  And therein lies my problem -- I have all these interests (perhaps I could call them passions), and there's not enough time in the day to become really good at all of them.  But when I try to decide which one(s) to give up to make time for the others, I fail, because I enjoy them all so much.  And so I go on, splitting my time across multiple hobbies.  Rotating across them all -- this week one gets more time, next week it might be another -- and never settling on any one.

According to the Myers-Brigs personality test, that's about par for the course for my type, which is ENFP.  Maybe I should take comfort in the fact that there are only three main categories of hobbies on which I spend my time.  At least I can keep rotating through three groups of hobbies and keep them all fresh and active.  Oh wait, there's reading. I guess that's four, unless you roll it up under writing, since it's said that to be a good writer you must also be well-read.  So, does that make community theater number four or number five?

I am very fortunate.  I have a job that pays very well, the commute isn't bad, and most days are pretty interesting, so I'm happy to keep doing it and thus being able to afford the luxuries I choose to indulge in.  I don't have to worry about the roof over my head or where the next meal is coming from.  I lead a cushy life, and I realize that.

It feels weird to sort-of complain about not having enough time to do all the awesome things I want to do, about having to figure out which of them is more important to me and devote more time to that, when there are people out there who have to choose between eating or keeping the heat on.  So, I guess I'll stop complaining and just embrace it.  And maybe see what I can do with one or more of those passions to help make life better for a few people out there...

Wheels Up

I bought a bicycle a little over a month ago, to replace running as my primary form of exercise. I've reached that point where running makes my knees ache for days afterward. Ah, the joys of one's middle years. But, I digress...

Making the time to ride regularly -- because to do otherwise would mean all the money I spent had been wasted -- has not been easy.  As a night owl who loves to read late into the night (or into the morning), I am never eager to drag myself out of bed at 6 AM.  One recent morning, I nearly lost the struggle, but I managed to cajole myself out of the warmth of my bed and into the early morning chill.  "No one can make you do this," I told myself.  "No one but you."  Indeed.  A lot like writing.  Funny that.

This past Saturday, I was on the trail around midday.  The weather was gorgeous -- perfect temperature, perfect humidity, bright and sunny -- so it was no surprise that about 5,000 other people were also on the trail. (That's one benefit of riding at 6 AM -- few people with whom to share the road.)  At several points, groups created obstacles for a rider like me: riding fast, trying to improve on previous times and burn more calories.  In rapid succession over the course of about a half mile, there were three different spots where families -- nay, entire villages -- had congregated across the entire trail for one reason or another, requiring me to slow down and call out to them so they would move.  By the third time, my irritation must have been evident, judging by the looks I got as I rode through.

Ordinarily, I'm a very patient rider and enjoy sharing the trail with the other folks using it.  This day was a bit different, however, because I was bleeding and in a bit of pain as I dealt with these blockages.  "Bleeding?" you say.  Indeed.

Just before encountering these three groups, I ran into -- almost literally -- a man who had chosen a bad spot to turn his bicycle built for two.  As I came out of a bicycle tunnel and around a curve that was partly obscured by small trees, I suddenly saw the aforementioned bicycle perpendicular to the trail, blocking it completely.  The man turning it had no time to do anything, and his passenger was in no position to help.  I slammed on both brakes, and all seemed like it would be well when my back tire slipped on a patch of sand, the front wheel locked up, and down in a heap I went.

The man clearly felt bad, commenting that it was all his fault and that he didn't know what to say.  And really, what was there to say?  Likewise for me, what could I say?  It's not like he maliciously waited to ambush me -- though he probably could have turned a little farther down the trail, at the end of a straight section that would have allowed other riders time to adjust, but let's not split hairs.  I was angry and frustrated for a moment, but I swallowed it and just got back up on my bike, brushing gravel out of the cuts on one palm and one knee as I did so.  I looked briefly at the man, then just took a deep breath and shrugged.  Getting angry wouldn't have solved anything or helped anyone.

I rode off and didn't look back.  I considered cutting the ride short and heading home at a convenient turn-out point that was coming up.  But, I was only about two-thirds of the way through my planned ride, and again I realized that no one could make me finish the ride but myself.  So, finish it I did, bloody cuts and all.

I might have vented my frustration with one very brief, shouted expletive once I was a goodly distance away from the man and his passenger.  I am only human, after all.  But I finished the ride despite the crash, and that made all the difference.  That and the Advil...

Two MORE Years!

If it had happened that today was May 2nd, then it would have seemed a definite sign -- every two years, like clockwork, I get the itch to write in my blog.  It's been a little more than that this time around, however, so I guess it's not a weird supernatural timing thing.  :-)

But, lo and behold, it has been about two years since the last time I posted.  Interestingly enough, the history dashboard on the blog shows there was a view yesterday.  I must assume that was my mother-in-law, who commented sometime recently (though, in actuality, "recently" probably really means six to nine months ago) that she still checks out my blog occasionally, to see if there's new content.  Well, hi Mom!  :-)

So, what's been going on, you ask?  A lot happens in two years, but a few highlights come to mind:

• My wife and I sold our house and moved out of New Hampshire.  It was a beautiful house that we really loved and the town was great, but it was an hour or more from nearly everything we did.  We moved much closer to where most of our life happens, and while my commute didn't magically disappear, it did get a bit shorter and now I spend several fewer hours a week in the car, time that I can invest in other fun and/or personal development projects (and sometimes those are the same things!).
• I had my gall bladder removed.  Yeah, that was a hoot.  Nothing quite like a gall bladder attack that sends you to the emergency room on the day you're packing up the moving truck to move to a new state!  Maybe I'll give you the full details in a future post.
• I've been in a lot of community theater shows.  I spent a prodigal year doing shows with groups other than the troupe my wife runs -- three comedies with three different groups, and two of those musicals -- and then I returned to my wife's troupe for a couple of very lighthearted romps: Rabbit Hole and Romeo and Juliet.  (Yes, my characterizing those shows as lighthearted is me being tongue-in-cheek.)
• The big secret project that I was working on at Amazon and could not tell anyone about (damn, but that was tough sometimes) finally launched and became public knowledge and has so far been extremely well received by the public.  If you haven't heard of the Amazon Echo, you should check it out!

And about a million more things, but an exhaustive list is not what you want to read, I'm sure, and I have to save something to serve as fuel for the fire if I'm going to write more frequently than biannually...

Okay, enough for now.  There are a number of thoughts floating around in my head, of course, and the urge to spill some metaphorical ink comes at a time when I'm thinking seriously about what I'm doing and where I'm going, so there may be some of those musings in this space in the days ahead.  I say, "may be" because, well, look at my track record...

Two Years?

Since my last post, I've occasionally had thoughts along the lines of "It's been a while since I've posted on my blog. I should get back to that."  Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew the blog had lain fallow for a much longer time than I ever intended, but I was really shocked to discover just how long it had been when I randomly checked in tonight.  The fact that it's May 1st when my last post occurred on April 30th (albeit, two years ago) seemed like a bit of a sign: ignore the last digit of the year, and it's like I just posted yesterday.  So, I thought I'd act on that thought that's been recurring from time to time.

The past couple of years have been a whirlwind of positive and negative events -- several fun shows, the passing of close family, a new job -- and I'll work through some of that in the weeks ahead via the electrons on this virtual page.  Recently, I've been feeling the creative impulse again and looking for an outlet I don't get in my daily job.  My high-stress, fast-paced, overworked job.  I know I'm not the only one, and I raise my fist in solidarity to all those friends as stressed out as I am, but I've got to find a way to restore some balance in order to preserve my sanity (and my marriage!).  Finding -- no, making -- time to write is one way I hope to do that.

Maybe I'll work through the Artist's Way again, and maybe this time I'll get past Chapter 3.  :-)

Seeking Simplicity

A few days ago, as I sat in my motionless car waiting for traffic on the surprisingly congested, fog-shrouded back road to move so that I could get to work, I happened to glance to my right at the pond that stood beside the road.  The water was still in the cool morning air, a thin mist rising from it as the first shafts of the morning sun penetrated the branches of the surrounding pine trees.  A swan sat serenely swimming (say that five times fast), fluffing its feathers, oblivious to the world beyond its immediate surroundings.

As I gazed upon the swan, I found myself envious of the simplicity of the scene, struck anew by a desire to simplify my life.  I say "anew" because it's not the first time I've wished my life were simpler.  I also know that I'm not the first (nor will I be the last) to make that wish.  We live in frenetic -- nay, frenzied -- times, and it seems easier than ever to get caught up in the cycle of day-to-day responsibilities and activities, running from one thing to the next with barely a pause for breath.

I'm sure the litany of things that consume my time would be similar to that of many of my friends.  There's work (of course), gaming, theater rehearsals, family gatherings and events, outings with friends, two houses worth of yard work (the one we live in and the one we're trying to sell), doctor and dentist appointments, bills to pay, groceries to buy, books to read, shows to catch up on, etc. etc. etc.  Weeks and months pass in a whirlwind, and I periodically find myself taking an unexpected day off when I get sick because my body just can't keep up.  (But do I really rest on these days?  Of course not!  They are opportunities to catch up on reading...)

I'm not alone in the modern curse of overcommitment, and I realize that I did (and continue to do) this to myself.  I'm not complaining, though it may sound like I am.  I suppose I am observing, as I occasionally do, that the time has come to put on the brakes and simplify my life for a while.  The show I'm in is my fourth in a year with virtually no breaks between, so maybe it's time to take a month or two off from community theater.  Maybe I'll game a little less.  Maybe I'll stop pushing myself so hard at work.  I want to spend more time enjoying the burgeoning Spring and share more time with my wife.  For a while, I want to do less and be more.  I want to be more like the swan.

I know it won't last: too much relaxation makes me restless.  I've done this before, and I inevitably reach a point where I feel like a slacker for not having an overfull schedule.  The type-A overachiever in me would rather feel exhausted than feel lazy, so my fallow periods tend to be short and widely-spaced.  It won't be long before I'm ramping back up to the frenetic pace I'm accustomed to, but in the meantime, I think I'll take a few long walks, enjoy some sunshine and smell a few flowers.  It probably won't stick, but it'll be a pleasant change while it lasts.