January 28, 2005
Personal:
Futility
By Jack GrantIn an odd synchronicity that likely does not merit close examination, upon reading recent posts by Aaron Swartz on his life as a college freshman, I see many of the same feelings I had when I started college over 23 years ago. I'm sure the emotions stirred up within me are not in small measure affected by the music I am listening to, a random playlist of my highest rated songs on iTunes. Music from that time in my life 23 years ago, music from only last month, music from all times in between, randomly chosen based upon ratings I gave it without any further thought than if I once liked the song. It makes me wonder if the new technologies which increase the interconnectedness of us all (weblogs, email, etc.) and increase our access to music, news, video, and any other media help those who feel disconnected from the rest of humanity any less lonely.
I doubt it, after reading what Aaron has to say. He seems to have many of the same thoughts and reactions I did 23 years ago.
There are still times, even now, I feel disconnected from the human race, even after 23 years past that first shock of college, 23 years of heartache and heartbreak, 23 years of meeting different people and learning to understand them even if they didn't think like me, living in five different places on two continents, spending a significant amount of time on three different continents, learning new things both related and unrelated to my job, discovering technology and science not known by anyone before and telling the world of these new things in conferences and technical papers, 23 years of relearning lessons first learned thousands of years ago in eons of heartbreaks repeated.
Years of personal turmoil, years of wars, years of incredible growth in both economics and technology, years of change that make movies and novels of even 10 years ago seem as "quaint" and "outdated" as a certain individual in our current government labeled the Geneva Conventions.
Over two decades...
Twenty-three years is slightly over half my lifetime ago, and 23 years from now I will be eligible for retirement (assuming no radical changes in the law...). Yet... I'm still 15 years too young to be called "middle aged".
I recently posted a quote:
Only age understands regret.While I fully accept my mistakes, and I understand that at every point I made the best decisions I could given both what I knew and understood at the time leavened with what wisdom I had earned, regret still haunts my darker hours like the ghosts of those loved and departed haunt any gathering of old friends. That simile may be peculiarly apt in my case for reasons to difficult to describe here. Regret unmerited, but felt all the same.
-J. Michael Straczynski
Will I be able to withstand the regret after another 23 years?
This last December, a person very important to me sent me an email. The person who wrote this message is a poet, a very good one in my opinion. I've often thought of posting some of her poetry here, but I don't want to presume she would want it, and I haven't ever asked (no, I don't know why...). The entire email she sent:
subject: saw the worst thing yesterday...there was a struck deer in the roadway... he was rocking back and forth and trying to get up.unfortunately, his back was broken.
futility.
Some days, this encapsulates life for me, for I see and understand.
Thousands, perhaps millions, every day, of tragic vignettes that have no larger meaning beyond what those who witness them give. Witnesses who are all too mortal themselves.
Lives lost...
Visions erased...
Dreams shattered...
Hearts broken...
Hopeless striving...
Broken-backed...
Unwitnessed...
Unremembered...
Never ending...
And so it goes...
Futility
.
.
.
Then, my stubborn streak kicks in, and I refuse to give up, regardless if the entire universe and even God are all against me.
Though there are times I wished I could, I cannot give up.
I don't know why.
I'm really sorry that in everything you had to say about the past 23 years of your life... none of it is positive. My heart breaks for you that the bad is all you remember. There must have been good and happy times, but those are forgotten. I'm very sorry. I know that nothing I can say will make things better for you.
I wanted to say something after reading this, but I'm not sure this is the "right" thing. I have great difficulty with negatives because (although I tend to want to whine too much) I focus my mind on the positives. I've had lots of crap come my way over the years, but I prefer to laugh at it. When I head into my "down times" which I have too - I get angry that it might be getting the best of me and ruining even a minute of time.
Sounds like you are in the middle of your own down time - I hope you can find something good to pull you out and make you happier again soon.
Posted by: Teresa at January 28, 2005 11:06 PMA very wise spiritual woman once told me "The human spirit is always in either expansion or contraction. Remember that and avoid contraction periods at all costs." We all try to avoid "contraction periods" -- of course we do. But it seems inevitable that periods of contraction come to us at one time or another. It has been my experience that the best way to get out of my "contractions" is to help someone else who is struggling with contraction demons. Do a kind surprise for someone who seems in "down time" and see how much it raises YOUR spirit. I hope this doesn't sound preachy, Jack. You know I don't mean for it to. Just spread some sunshine and see what happens.
Posted by: Indigo at January 30, 2005 02:44 AMInteresting advice, Indigo.
I don't think I've ever heard that concept articulated in that manner before.
I'll take it.
Thanks.
Posted by: Christina at February 1, 2005 02:29 AM
