Until recently, there must have been a gap or distance between us (that is, between folks like me, who make their biggest life decisions on "instinct" and people who know to look for a "non-recourse" clause in a contract, for example) that I danced around since around college. When I imagined what it felt like to be at that confident, well-informed point in their life, I never really thought of the timeline that brought them there. It seemed like children they'd had or incarnations of careers that had come and gone must have all happened since they reached that mythical age of "adulthood." That their early life made them somehow better prepared to absorb the shock of adult decisions gone awry.
Maybe by imagining that gap, I somehow have been holding adulthood at arms' length. Not the work of it, I don't think. But the results of it. Both falling short of whatever I set out do do and acknowledging any success that might come from doing a few things well. And in either case, the real responsibility comes in how I respond to the consequences of those choices.
But these people do live in real time. There have been real consequences to their choices, and they've lost a lot. They were usually smart enough not to go all-in when taking risks... but even when they did (and when they did, they went Big), they still bounced back. They see the value in learning from all these encounters, so when they talk, their lives don't take on a bit of stale, spoiled, or wasted taste.
I've done quite a bit of yammering, too, lately. My neighbor Mr. F (The Neighbor to end all neighbors) and I are of the breed of folks who love - no, really, LOVE - debate. We're one-on-one communicators by nature. Borers. And though I also mean sleep-inducing for listeners-on, I mean it more to paint a picture of a critter that ceaselessly carves out a surface, and layers of composition, and shrewdly discards extraneous shavings on its way toward the essential. Most of this has centered around politics, economics, and philosophy... with a bent toward putting my next moves in life in focus. He's indulged my long-windedness and probed for deeper explanations, even digesting incessant points of clarification during his own transmissions. So I've heard myself talk more than I'd ever imagine I could stomach.
What I've heard, among other things, most loudly is - I almost never tire of thinking. And I'm super-ethical. (Well, he'd say that I am strongly tied to a certain ethic, and that those I oppose would operate out of an equally strong one - but wildly different enough from mine to disgust me). The man reads like a fiend, and I've got a reading list forearm-deep to keep fuel on the philosophical fire for months to come. Much of the nature of this reading, though, is sorting through practical observations my idealism may normally keep me from using as a foundation. But, I'm coming to realize, I'm more of a pragmatist than I ever thought. Acknowledging how heavily ethics-motivated I am, it's becoming clear that a heavy dose of practical considerations is needed in proportion with these ideals, in order to make them more likely to become realities.
Now I'm even hearing myself use the word - (hiccup!) - Goals... Goo-aahlls.
See, setting goals always sounded to me like something rich people do. At least by their thirties, there seemed to be wheels in motion toward wherever Richville is (I never got a map). Maybe we "working class heroes" spend so much time living in the moment, dealing with our ever-present personal and tribal (family, I mean) issues, that long-range planning seems impossible... even unethical. In the words of Garth the Wise, "Stop torturing yourself, man! You'll never afford it! Live in the now!" Garth imagined that young Wayne was not willing to sacrifice or postpone other pleasures to bring that Stratocaster into his world. He misjudged Wayne (hormones, when focused, can be a bore of their own - and girls love guitars).
There's something to that, though. I have no idea what peers headed for long-term stability in my own age group talk about (I imagine it to be home buying deals, school waiting lists, and activism for bike lanes). But those I know who navigated into those still waters take on every subject with a problem-solving, big-picture approach... whiteboard and dry erase markers in hand. I'm working on understanding this dichotomy still, and I'm far from certain how to present it, but... I know I grew up feeling torn between this question-everything, calculate-risks, then face it head-on mentality and the social anxiety that gripped me in fear of making a decision or taking a stance that would offend or hurt someone. I hear evidence of it hovering through others' personal histories, too.
The other day, over beers with the J Man and our passionate pal Chuck, our conversation took its inevitable turn toward politics, and quickly to the issue of wealth distribution and fairness. Without delving into that and away from this, I'll say that, when a question arose as to whether the way we typically champion those ethics is structured or thought out in a way that is likely to have real success - our pal threw what J and I like to call a "club punch." That's when a person does or says something incendiary (the punch), then retreats behind a diplomatic concession (the wall of hold-me-back'ers). That pursuing fairness at all costs might have inherent flaws (and require a view more balanced by liberty or risk losing fairness alongside liberty) must be the fault of "the opposition"... and so the big picture of how to make big changes disappeared.
I never in my life imagined I'd be reading a book J dubbed the "Little Lebowski Urban Achiever's Handbook," but there I was. Waiting in a bar in the least urban-achieving place I've lived, reading a book called "Succeeding." In it, John Reed highlights the need for each person to find where their labor fits like a round peg in a round hole. He talks about what Talent is. And he says it's "something you can do almost effortlessly... you are mystified as to why others cannot do it." I'm now in the business of sorting out what that is. By trying (not just talking about trying) a few things.
Because I've realized we're all at the same table here, those with resources and those without. For different reasons, we're speaking different languages and representing different tribes, but if we can at least learn the languages of "the opposition," we may be privy to the same possibilities. In my case, I'm good at languages. It's ME holding adulthood at arms' length.
I will fail. At a few things. Probably at some big things. But if the process of responding to those decisions moves forward in a way that's honest, hard-working, and self-aware (and peppered with trust that there's more to come...), there's a playfulness in that kind of Liberty. And that's where all the rich stuff's buried... love, hope, joy. You know the stuff.
Talking to Chuck, it dawned on me that by living as though "We'll never afford it," we're stuck playing a borrowed dream that never has to live up to the price we've paid for it.
It takes guts, I guess, to face up to what's at stake. To think about ourselves with honesty, develop our talents, and create our own codes of ethics to help us operate on behalf of our tribe; of our Future. There will be a price, no matter my course. And its cost isn't limited to myself. Decisions we make to protect ourselves and our loved ones will hurt and offend someone else. Lines around our spheres of influence will be drawn. Reckoning with that now and learning to operate in ways that protect me and mine can't help but develop more understanding for other folks who are trying to do the same for them and theirs.
(....Oh, if you're thinking at least we can show up, play some "Stairway to Heaven," and go home... one day that too will be denied.)
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