It's funny; when I began this blog, I had so much to say and so much to put out there. Now, almost 9 months later, it's been pretty slow, especially for the last six months. I'm having a hard time conceptualizing what I want to say. Moreover, I'm having a hard time finding a path for myself. I'm mired in a sort of existential funk - unable to do anything or make any changes.
So what do I do? I find myself to a large extent hemmed in by a set of constants that cannot be changed, the largest of which is the fact that as a family, we need almost $4500 per month to live on. Now, with some debt reduction and some (more) belt tightening, we could likely get that figure down to $4000. With a bit of luck, we could get it down to $3500 per month, or approximately $900 per week. That's still pretty steep. So what, then? Writing is never a pursuit designed to make scads of money. I've got a wife and three kids, and between the two of us, we have to make, as it stands now, approximately $82,000 per year combined. If we got that down to the $3500 per month then we'd be talking about $63,500 per year. That's not a great thing either, though it is better.
What's more, the desire to write on my part is an intensely selfish one. It is utterly unimaginable that I could make any money at this (at least any amount that is reasonable) for the first year. That means my writing would be fulfilling to me, but offer little to my family. There's more, though. We have to talk about healthcare. Okay, does anyone think there is an adult couple where neither is hypertensive, depressed, anxious, ulcer ridden, stressed, arthritic or otherwise saddled with a chronic illness? How about also adding in that you can have neither weight nor cholesterol problems? Yeah, I don't think so either. Still, it seems that for one to get private health insurance, these are requirements. Now in my family, I have high blood pressure and anxiety/depression. My wife, better yet, is HIV positive. Reckon there's any way in the world we can get private insurance without paying something like $2000 per month with deductibles approximately equal to the cost of my house? Yeah, me neither. For those concerned, by the way, my wife has likely been positive since Reagan was president and has never shown the slightest sign of illness. She's what is referred to as a "long-term non-progressor", a relatively recent designation that has been applied to a phenomenon no one understands. There are a number of people like my wife out there, and for rather obvious reasons, many are deeply interested in the why's of her lack of illness. Anyway, back to the show. For these reasons, healthcare as guaranteed by work in a corporate world, is crucial. Problem is, neither of us is particularly enthralled by corporate work. My wife is running a nascent but successful online toy store, Fun For Thought Toys, and she's in no mood to work in the corporate world, though she does so to help make ends meet. If I were to take up writing, this would place the burden on my wife to work the corporate thing more intensely, releasing me to write. That's a pretty big sacrifice and one I'm not sure I'm willing to ask for.
Which brings me to the crux of my problem. Why am I unwilling to ask for such a sacrifice to chase my vision of happiness? Simple - my vision of happiness changes roughly quarterly. That's usually the amount of time it takes for me to dig into whatever it is that I want to do and realize that it isn't going to fall into my lap. Like all things, one's path in life takes work. I'm generally unwilling to do that work. About the only things that I have ever put a tremendous amount of effort into are reading and my marriage, and the latter is still, arguably, suffering from my lack of attention (not suffering badly, but it could use more effort from me, no doubt). Even my kids, who I love almost beyond reason, get short shrift from me at times. I don't make the effort to take kids to soccer, or dance or Brownies or whatever. I do not spend enough time reading to my kids. I do not spend enough time teaching them to fish or play baseball or whatever. I have my own agenda and I tend to promote that over theirs a lot of the time. Basically, I'm a seriously selfish person a lot of the time. It's a flaw. Anyway, to get back to where I was, I tend to pick up and drop new "life paths" fairly frequently, though to be fair, they generally are the same set of things: programmer, writer, teacher or "happy idiot" corporate drone. Is this time the real thing? I usually think so . . . so that's no gauge. Or should I make the commitment and use the sacrifice others make for me the goad to keep me at it?
I wish I understood what motivates me. I wish I understood more about myself. I've been told I'm very self-aware, and I think that is true. But my deepest motivations are elusive to me. Why am I lazy? Why can I not commit and discipline myself? Why am I so selfish?
Oh hell, I'm sure no one out there is interested in my navel gazing. Be well, all, and perhaps I will spew forth something soon that is more in line with the ideas that I started this with.
No comments:
Post a Comment