Runaway Future


Not your personal superhero

Filed under: The Daily Grind — forbes @ 23:54

I like to help people. In a way, that’s been the guiding light for almost everything I do. I justify my job through whether or not I’m helping others, whether that’s fixing a computer problem, helping someone do their job, listening to a requirement and turning that into an actionable change or bigger picture stuff like providing support to get more children participating in sport or helping build the groundwork that may one day change how health care is administered.

My parents sometimes like to tell a story about how I came home from school one day crying. I was living in Chester at the time and a kid in my class said his family couldn’t afford the $15 or whatever it was for a field trip and that really bothered me. So I begged my parents to let me pay for him or to take it out of my allowance. In the end, my parents ended up going into the school to find that the school had a program to handle these things.

My dad says I wear my heart of my sleeve and maybe that’s true. Or maybe I’m just a complete bleeding heart. I’ve been reading from this Forty Days of Dating project for some time, but today’s entry really hit me: the whole perception that someone who is trying to make everyone happen might also appear to be completely spineless.

At times, I feel like I carry too much of this, more than I need to and more than anyone ever asked me to. But I shoulder this load and then eventually falter or end up like that guy in the book I read, handing out huge chunks of flesh to try to spread the weight. I find myself sharing in the dreams of others and honestly hoping for a better path for those who need it. Of course, I also unabashedly put myself on that moral high horse or up on that cross if it’s too my own advantage.

And then there’s the flip side, where I shoulder these loads, whether it’s all of my own doing or people shovelling their individual loads on board, and when I need someone to help me with my own load, I feel like I come up empty.

I don’t know, today alone, I saved a little girl from two spiders, but I wasn’t able to save the world.


a curator of last looks

Filed under: The Daily Grind — forbes @ 23:19

I’ve written about this before, the attraction I’ve been having for finality or at least things that can’t be taken back.

It’s funny at times to go back and read something that I’ve written before and then know where the future went from that declaration.

But that’s beside the point.

Today, I read this article, which was interesting, but really spoke to me at this particular point:

We don’t have to shut the door on anything. Which is good, because shutting the door on something is not something we ever want to do.

I think it’s very important to sometimes shut doors and move forward with life.

This isn’t really tied to the rest of the content of that article (which talks about the effect that social media has on the modern day relationship), but more that one line reminded me of that previous post and had me thinking about how that previous post applies to a lot of things I’ve also been thinking about lately.

And so I captured all that thinking here.

Addendum: Fortes fortuna adiuvat

Quitting is hard, stopping is hard, moving forward with life is hard, last looks are hard, closing doors is hard, chasing things down full bore is hard.

It’s easy to make the half stops, to slow, to bide your time, life makes it really easy for you to never take a stand, never have a hill to die on, never hold a ridge but really fucking going for it is hard.

I’ve been reading Svbtle a lot because I really love the format and the roster of writers they’ve accumulated. One day, I’d love to write for them but completely different from what I write here, or maybe not. I’d also love to write for The Classical, because it’s sports but adding an extra layer to it.

Anyway, this article caught my eye during my daily perusal of Svbtle this week.

Because even the most passionate person, who wholeheartedly believes in their mission, is going to wish they had chosen another path one day.

They’re going to wish they would’ve taken that job or worked on that other idea. They’re going to feel like this idea, this passion they’ve been chasing, is stupid and that they should just give up.

And the reality is a lot of them WILL give up. Sadly, those aren’t the stories we’ll hear about.

We’ll hear about the crazy ones, the ones who believed when noone else did, the ones who kept fighting when everyone else told them it was over.

Being one of the crazy ones is the way to do it. But no one promised that it would be easy.


saying the same thing in a different voice

Filed under: The Daily Grind — forbes @ 15:04

Scribd’s graph looks like a lot of our lives. If you zoom in, you’ll see a setback or find a rough downward trend. It feels terrible, in the moment. It feels like everything has always been this way. But if you zoom out, you’ll actually notice how far we’ve come. And how previous setbacks were merely important steps to get you further than you were so long ago.

I’ve become a huge fan on Svbtle and their network of blogs.

This one speaks to me about something I’ve been mentioning a couple times on here about progress.

I have another opinion and stuff

Filed under: The Daily Grind — forbes @ 0:36

There’s another piece of news that has caused some uproar and that’s the cover of Rolling Stone.

Dipping their toe into something more than just pop culture, Rolling Stone’s depiction of Dzhokhar Tsarnaev opens the door for a larger conversation, which is then completely missed.

Wounds (both emotional and physical) are still raw after the bombing and manhunt that took place only a few months ago, but that’s where the interesting part of the Tsarnaev picture comes up.

There’s the rush to depict the Tsarnaev brothers as monsters and for bombing such a high profile public event, they certainly are. But I feel it’s also important to know who they were. If we immediately pass them off as being crazy or damaged or in some way unique in their delusions and beliefs, we’re missing what is perhaps the scarier story.

Everything that’s been written about the Tsarnaev’s (certainly about Dzhokhar) points to them being pretty normal guys, who eventually took a path that led to the horrors at the Boston Marathon. Isn’t understanding how that happened important?

We want to make monsters out of men, to point out that these are people from away or people who believe things that we don’t or that these are damaged people and to separate ourselves from them, using that as an explanation of that’s why these things happen. The truth might be that they’re not, maybe they aren’t as different from us as we’d love to believe. And that’s much much more frightening.

Inspirations: one


I have an opinion and stuff

Filed under: The Daily Grind — forbes @ 23:37

Astrologically, I’m a Gemini, which apparently means I see both sides of most discussions. That gives me a character trait of loving to take any side in a debate (or sometimes even taking both sides) and infuriating people. I come by that somewhat honestly.

Anyway, that’s beside the point, except that it helps me explain why I’m torn on the Trayvon Martin/George Zimmerman story.

I feel that I grew up with a higher than average respect for the law and legal proceedings. And that’s the worst part of this. Prosecution didn’t prove their case and a jury of Zimmerman’s peers exonerated him of guilt and he walked away. Reasonable doubt is all that’s required.

But in the end, Trayvon Martin is dead and George Zimmerman killed him.

Our rules when it comes to evidence and fair trials causes a sickening divide between legal guilt and moral guilt.

The process still stands tall and unblemished, but we all feel wrong.

There’s so many facets to this, from the stand-your-ground rule, to gun control, to race. None of it is pretty and neither is the final decision.

This is where it is clear that there’s a separation from the laws meant to protect us and the world that we want to live in. Does that lead to legal change? Maybe. But remember that eight months ago, a guy shot up an elementary school in Connecticut and a year ago, another guy shot up a movie theatre in Colorado and that wasn’t enough to change gun control.

So what does the death of Trayvon Martin mean? What does he represent? In death, does he serve as a representative of that separation between the laws and the world or does he become a catalyst for change? Can change happen?

I hope it can, because that’s the world I want to live in.

Inspirations: one, two

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