A little more than a month ago, I dubbed this 'the year of the essay' as I looked in that ugly stepsister of a genre to find academic, personal, and ideological redemption from what continues to be a taxing year.
Update: Politicians are still idiots, my job at a software company still turns my brain to mush, and I'm not sure if I want the cost of gas to go up or down (such ambivalence about long- vs. short-term good!).
However, in one pivotal instance, the essay, or rather the pretentious aristocrats who wrote some essays in England during the 17th century, helped save my sanity just a little bit.
I had come up with a brilliant plan. I won't go into details, but I was certain that I had found a way turn my life around in a way that both supported my family and my ambitions with a new job that I would have loved. One small issue: the job no longer existed. I'm not sure what little chasm of mischief in my mind convinced me that it was ok to fantasize about a dream life without first inquiring about the job's availability, but I did. And I was somewhat crushed when the prospects didn't pan out.
Enter Ben Jonson (1572-1637 [according to Master Norton]). Always a comfort to those of us who lack the instinctive or hereditary abilities that seem to appear spontaneously in others ("For a good poet's made as well as born"), Ben gave me some perspective on my difficulties. You see, I don't find much joy in my job, and it requires long hours. The fantasy job, while still requiring much effort, would have been within my comfort zone and used skills I've already spent a fair amount of time honing.
But Ben said to me, "And though a man be more prone and able for one kind of writing than another, yet he must exercise all. For as in an instrument, so in style, there must be a harmony and consent of parts."
And I said, "What the heck does that have to do with anything, Benjamin?"
And he said, "My name is Ben, and it's not short for anything. But what I'm saying is that if this aspect of professionalization is not of your taste, then all the more reason to embrace it for a time, knowing that you'll be more balanced in the long run."
To which I said, "Cool, thanks Benjamin," and promptly stopped talking to the Norton Anthology of English Literature because my wife came in the room.
Life is hard. And you want the best job and best situation you can get. But sometimes, you need to be patient and embrace the less palatable steps in that ladder, realizing that (at least for me) true happiness in the world is being able to act confidently and efficiently in it to help others and do good work. And today, tomorrow, and the next day will all push me in that direction as long as I keep a balanced and positive 17th century bourgeois attitude.
So in sum (for those of you just waiting for pictures):
This guy:
Helped turn me from feeling this:
To this:
Update: Politicians are still idiots, my job at a software company still turns my brain to mush, and I'm not sure if I want the cost of gas to go up or down (such ambivalence about long- vs. short-term good!).
However, in one pivotal instance, the essay, or rather the pretentious aristocrats who wrote some essays in England during the 17th century, helped save my sanity just a little bit.
I had come up with a brilliant plan. I won't go into details, but I was certain that I had found a way turn my life around in a way that both supported my family and my ambitions with a new job that I would have loved. One small issue: the job no longer existed. I'm not sure what little chasm of mischief in my mind convinced me that it was ok to fantasize about a dream life without first inquiring about the job's availability, but I did. And I was somewhat crushed when the prospects didn't pan out.
Enter Ben Jonson (1572-1637 [according to Master Norton]). Always a comfort to those of us who lack the instinctive or hereditary abilities that seem to appear spontaneously in others ("For a good poet's made as well as born"), Ben gave me some perspective on my difficulties. You see, I don't find much joy in my job, and it requires long hours. The fantasy job, while still requiring much effort, would have been within my comfort zone and used skills I've already spent a fair amount of time honing.
But Ben said to me, "And though a man be more prone and able for one kind of writing than another, yet he must exercise all. For as in an instrument, so in style, there must be a harmony and consent of parts."
And I said, "What the heck does that have to do with anything, Benjamin?"
And he said, "My name is Ben, and it's not short for anything. But what I'm saying is that if this aspect of professionalization is not of your taste, then all the more reason to embrace it for a time, knowing that you'll be more balanced in the long run."
To which I said, "Cool, thanks Benjamin," and promptly stopped talking to the Norton Anthology of English Literature because my wife came in the room.
Life is hard. And you want the best job and best situation you can get. But sometimes, you need to be patient and embrace the less palatable steps in that ladder, realizing that (at least for me) true happiness in the world is being able to act confidently and efficiently in it to help others and do good work. And today, tomorrow, and the next day will all push me in that direction as long as I keep a balanced and positive 17th century bourgeois attitude.
So in sum (for those of you just waiting for pictures):
This guy:
Helped turn me from feeling this:
To this:
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