Modern art

I'm going to admit it: this entry will probably feel like a brain-dump. I'm attempting to unload and upload my thoughts that I've had over the past several months. While there may be times of great inspiration that fall out of this entry, it'll probably feel more like modern art where differing colors are thrown onto a canvas with no apparent rhyme or reason. I'll leave the interpretation to you.

Where am I heading with my life? Is my career path going to lead me where I want to end up? Should I consider leaving a profitable job to live the life of a student again to get to where I need to be going (wherever that is)? And what of my family?

Over the past several months, I have felt driven to explore where I am going. I feel at times that there is something greater out there for me, somewhere else I need to be. Something else that I need to be doing. Exactly what that is and how I am to get there is really beyond me.

And what if I am just not seeking to be content with my life? Am I looking for things that ought not to be? Shouldn't I be grateful for a stable job, especially in this time of recession? Are my sights too high? Am I looking for some undefined ideal that doesn't exist? Do I just need to be more content with my life?

Maybe I am going through a mid-life crisis. Maybe this is what a mid-life crisis is: when present situation does not seem to meet the ideal, somewhat undefined lifestyle.

Maybe I'm not destined to greatness in this life (though great things are to come in the next life). Maybe I need to recognize that I will always be ordinary. Maybe I just need to be content with life.

And so I keep researching and looking at my options. I suppose that a large part of this internal battle stems from my unhappiness at work. Work is hard. It is tough. It demands a lot out of me personally. It is an uphill battle everyday at work. I feel like I am in the middle of a meat grinder at times, transforming me in a lump of mush that can be useful in a different way--my present state not anything like my final state.

Or maybe I am like a lump of clay. I am being pushed and prodded and molded and spun and thrown about. I am being molded into something new. But what I am being molded into--a shift supervisor--is it right for me? Will I be thrown out in the process because I just don't get it, because I won't make it, because I'm not good enough? What if I crack in the heat of the furnace?

Such are my thoughts. I am looking for something new. Do I need to look for something else? Is there something else for me? Or am I just looking for excuses to bail out of my current situation? Does God see something else out there for me? And if so, how will I have the sufficient faith to make it happen?

Of these things I am certain and give me comfort: God, faith, family, Church, love, hope, Spirit, growth, potential.

The grass is greener on my side of the fence

I just finished a wonderful book by Randy Pausche entitled The Last Lecture. It is about a man who is diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. A naturally upbeat go-getter, Pausche discusses the lessons that he's learned in life in the form of a last lecture that he gives to faculty and staff at Carnegie-Mellon.

I am impressed with Pausche's outlook on life. His life has been full and satisfying because he has taken advantage of each day. In contrast, much of my own life has been spent looking over the fence at the neighbor's yard, wishing that mine was at least as good as his instead of bettering my own. It's human nature to think that someone else has it better than us and that no one else seems to experience problems or disappointments.

And so, I propose this truth: the secret to the "good" life is being content with where we are at.

I have always been impressed with the mountains of the West. Soaring above the earth, their rugged peaks and jagged facade boast a certain austerity that is both majestic and awe-inspiring. But although the towering mountains demand respect, what is even more impressive to me is the humble tree or shrub sprouting out of the rocky surface. Somehow, some way, these trees and shrubs take hold of the poor, rocky, inhospitable soil and grow. Their tenacity adds beauty and richness to the otherwise dull facade of the mountain.

Some of us are like the mountains--gifted, talented, impressive, and popular. Some of us are like the trees or shrubs--small, unnoticed, unappreciated. Whoever we are or wherever we stand in life, we are to be content with life. We must make the best of our situation. We must find a way to flourish, no matter how difficult the challenge.

In short, I can really only ever control my own backyard, as green or desirable as yours may be.

A few ground rules...

Let's set up some ground rules. I'm an engineer, not a writer. I have never been a great writer, although I do enjoy writing. I have to admit that there is something magical about putting pen to paper (or fingers to keypad). As I write, I'm sure that new insights will occasionally appear on the screen from the darkest reaches of the mind and from heavenly light from above. And while my audience may largely be confined to the select few who happen to stumble across this blog, I will impart what little life has taught me with the hope that someone else may benefit. As always, my immediate audience will be myself.

You may not catch a conversational tone about any of my writing. I've never been good at this. I've tried over the years to keep a journal of life's events. When I first shared some of these entries with my wife, she told me that I write differently than I speak. I probably haven't changed much since then. I'll try to maintain a conversational tone anyway.

I'm relatively new to the blogging arena. I don't know how often I'll update this blog. For all of you eager readers, it may be weeks or months between entries. I make no apology. Lessons in life usually come almost imperceptibly and during moments of great struggle and trial. Nor can they cannot be forced, though reflection and meditation on life's events often bring new insights.

A final note: you may (and probably ought to) sense a deep religiosity about my writing style. I make no apology here either. My life is intertwined with the sure knowledge of a God of love who sent His Son to make intercession for man, a God who communicates His will to His children, and a God who finds great joy in watching us grow. As such, you probably ought to sense a deep commitment to Him in my writing. I hope that this is the case.