I have a hard time with relaxing to enjoy entertainment. I don’t like movies. Books are a bit better. Overall, I can’t sit still for long periods of time. I cry easily. I am too influenced into doing things that sound cool in the media but are quite dumb when played out.
I went to a friend’s house last weekend. We played chess, and Battle Line; all quite intellectual games. But all I could think of during the games were: “Why aren’t we going out and changing the world? Isn’t that what young people are supposed to do?”
In other words, I don’t want a respite from reality. Just like Steve Jobs was known for, I want to willfully distort reality to fit my needs; my desires. I have a long way to go before I achieve these goals, but they include: choreographing dances on student bodies, supporting a life partner, becoming a linchpin for the organizations and communities I am part of. I am no scientist, but I do also hope to invent a service, framework, or product that makes life easier and more worth living.
The allure of leaving some trace behind in this world is the nectar that sustains me.
Back in college, I dreamed that I could do a better job at managing the student-run dining service than was existing. How foolish I was. I was lucky to be offered a manager position, but I was too paranoid that my ideas ran counter to university status quo, so I declined. My first manic episode orbited this idea of power and fear of power. The university security guards did monthly checks in the computer science lab, and I was convinced I was guilty of thought crime.
A few years later, and my life is quite bucolic. A few months ago, I worked retail and restaurant services. Now, I work a desk job, coach badminton, and teach dance. But as similar as the former sounds to the latter group in terms of importance, surprisingly, I feel a great difference in whether I am needed or not. In the former jobs, I not only felt but knew that I was infinitely replaceable by the way I was treated by employees and bosses. I was delegated to washing dishes when I was supposed to be a line cook. My job at retail was vapid: to count the number of customers over walkie-talkie… even though numbers never reached even half of maximum capacity as mandated by COVID protocol.
I am far from who I want to be, but I do observe myself making more and more particular decisions in the realm of meaning and integrity. Does what I am doing align with my morals and belief in my own potential? So far, and to date, the trajectory is ever-so-slightly inclined.
My best advice for those seeking change?
You can only change one heart at a time.