I’ve been listening to writers podcasts lately:
(Ditchdiggers , Scriptnotes, a tiny sense of accomplishment)
And I got my heart broken by the sense of purpose these people have.  A fantasy author was talking about working 5 days a week writing advertizing copy and on saturday she works on her epic fantasy novel series.  On saturday she “does the work she’s meant to do.”

I don’t have anything like that.  When I was young I wanted to be a Science fiction writer based on the fact that I like reading it.  I’ve written about 3 stories.  One of which I went to the trouble of submitting to the major science fiction short story markets (which were healthier back then).  After 2 or 3 rejections I kind of lost interest.  Turns out I would rather do drone work for some money than to do creative work for the chance of maybe making money one day.

To be clear, I had the imagination, and it was a muscle I was used to using back then.  I had descent skill as a wordsmith which could’ve been developed into something real.  I just didn’t have the stick-to-itiveness.

I don’t have anything in my life that calls me like that.  I really barely have hobbies.  I just read on the internet, watch occasional movies, watch my kids, and do my work.  And this, which I do so erratically I have trouble taking credit for it.

There’s this quote I got off Dan Millman (the “Peaceful Warrior” guy)

Happiness isn’t a destination.  You find happiness on the path.  But without a destination, there is no path.

I manage to be pretty happily in the moment, but I have no path.  No destination. No goal. What I have is an outlook.  a set of algorithms for dealing with situations.  A little bit of intelligent examination of past results to tweak the algorithms… And sometimes I really feel that lack.

Sometimes Fatherhood fills that gap.  Sometimes I do spend hours playing and talking with my kids and thinking about how to shape them into good people.  Sometimes I let them watch TV so they leave me alone so I can surf the internet.

And that’s all I got.

I think I was hoping that as I wrote this my mind would look at my life with a new lens and suddenly purpose would emerge, but I guess not yet.  Not today.


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