My cabinet of advisors
January 18, 2009
Wherin I acknowledge Death and Family as my advisors.
My cabinet of advisors
There was a point in my life in 1993 when I, as Carlos Casteneda’s fictional Yaqui sorceror don Juan suggests, “let Death be my advisor.” That is to say, I let the certainty that I will die someday, sooner or later, become a core part of how I evaluate decisions on how to spend my time and my life. And Death has been with me ever since then, factoring sometimes more in my decisions, and sometimes less. But always there. And as I get older, Death’s voice gets louder.
Then I had a child, and acquired another strong advisor: the Family advisor, who ensures I take care of my family. And as my family grows, that voice gets louder also.
Death has been most present in the big decisions, the gutsy, chancy ones. Like then in 1993 when I elected to get out of graduate school as fast as I could, or when in 1994 when I quit my job and spent my savings traveling in Europe, or when I moved to California with no job prospects and little money, or when I decided to go back to graduate school in 2005. And many others. And Family is there in my ear when I consider career choices, investment choices, school choices.
My advisors are always present, and I think they make it so that I find it increasingly difficult in my life to relax in the usual sense of the word: kick back, take a vacation, not think about the future and time ticking away. I used to be a champion rester, reading books, playing computer games, watching movies,. TV, even. And I would feel just fine about doing al those things. It’s harder for me now. I think about those 22,000 days often.
But now most computer games these days are uninteresting and not worth my time, when five or ten years ago they could consistently give me joy. They’re all variations on themes that have been playing out over the last ten or fifteen years.
Most science fiction and fantasy (which has always been my preferred genre) bores me to the point of frustration. Over the last thirty to sixty years, much science fiction and nearly all fantasy have been retellings of a small set of themes, and now that I can identify the themes, I really don’t need to see them played out again and again. Trade fiction is no better: I think I’ve had my fill of multi-generational family stories, self-destructing dysfunctional families, and doomed relationships.
I can no longer watch the same movies over and over again as I could when I was younger, and so few new movies capture my interest. Television bores me to the point of aggravation, so that even when I’m mentally exhausted, I rarely find anything that I would be willing to invest time watching and following.
Time in one’s life is a scarce resource. Unlike money, once spent, you can never get it back. You have a limited amount of it to spend, so use it well. As the Moody Blues say in their song “22,000 days”:
Even tho’ I know it’s only
Me and my dreams
That drive me so let me go please
Let me go onto tomorrow
One day at a time
Now I know the only foe is time
22,000 days, 22,000 days it’s not alot,
It’s all you got 22,000 days
22,000 nights, 22,000 nights, it’s all you know
So start the show and this time
Feel the flow and get it right
I wish that it were easier for me to forget that sometimes.
