There are certain moments along the way that I will remember. I will remember the email from Professor English that, completely unintentionally on her part, caused me to re-evaluate where I was going professionally and, in a sense, spiritually. It was her encouragement that set me on this whole journey in the first place. I will remember working on the Divide and the massive encouragement Professor Robins provided. I will remember Professor Sinclair as the first person I met who showed me that I could be an older student and still be successful both in the fields of writing and academia. Last night, I had added another memory. I spent over an hour talking with Professor Minton about facing the primary flaw that I have as a creator: my fear.
I am terrified of you. I really am. Oh sure, I can write a thousand political screeds. I can bury you in research and, in relative terms, elegantly weave my way through an argument. Those are just words, though. They are a passage of text which I pulled from nowhere deep and now leave on the table. If you hate or love it, I really don’t care. I have no investment in any of it. Greyrealm is entirely that. I wish it wasn’t but, if I am honest, I never wrote a single thing that exposed me. For a long time, I even took pride in that. To be honest, I don’t think I have to ever put forth something that means anything to me. My fear won’t allow it.
That must change. If I am to be anything, that has to change. I want it to change. I want this all to matter. I have spent so many years doing things that don’t matter. I’m tired of it. I want that rush of risk again.
I spent an hour talking about this fear. It was a full hour spent learning from someone with different experiences and on a different journey but who shared that same passion. In a sense, I learned to find my faith again.
Faith is a word I have avoided for a long time but somewhere in the depths of my heart I always wondered why. Here I am being provided examples, help, and encouragement all along the way. Every time I feel like I am about to stumble on this journey another arm is provided to prop me up and to teach me to carry on. How can I not have faith in that? How can I not trust that?
We are all adventurers in the grandest game of all. There is nothing more exciting than this life and this world. No fantasy, no fiction will ever do it justice. I hope that as I step out there into that great scary world that I have hid from for so long that I can connect with a few of you. I know some of you will hate me. I can deal with that. If my stories can connect and be recognized by those in this world who need or want to hear them, then that is enough and I will be content.
I find myself facing my own words and that, as any purveyor of text will tell you, is never a good thing.
What do I believe? Most of all, in who do I believe?
Two years ago, I set myself upon a path. At the ripe of old age of 32, I returned to school. My goal, at first, was simply to expand my knowledge and to add to skills I already had. This seemed like a good idea. Sitting still is the fastest way to doom in any industry and that is especially true of the tech industry. I attended class and I took online classes and I excelled. I forgot how good I could be at school.
I also forgot the danger of school. The fact that, if you let it, you will find yourself confronting your own beliefs and re-evaluating where you are going. As I continued to progress along my path, I was forced to face the simple fact that I hate what I do for a living. There is no mistake here. I detest everything about what I do. There is nothing of value in anything that I do and that is pathetic.
I originally chose to work where I do because I love technology. I love the tools of communication that now exist. I love that we have the capacity to create and design new forms of expression in less and less time and that we are always pushing the envelope. I love the wonderful synergy that is developing between the old and new forms. I love being a part of that. I love the creative power of the people who create these products. Best of all, I love the creative opportunities these tools make available to me, personally. I love that I have the opportunity to create in such a vibrant time.
I am a creator not a sustainer. I love words, I love media. The vast creation of all that crap that fills Youtube is both daunting, disgusting, and absolutely wonderful to me. Genre, style, and form is irrelevant. I love it all. I want to be lost in it and to be a part of it.
I sat in a lecture last night for three hours with an incredible instructor. As I sat there I saw my life stretch a long and winding trail filled with rocks and pitfalls both before me and behind me. I saw that I could really do this. I could actually succeed. I could descend into this world and I could succeed. Everything aspect of my heart, body, and soul wants me to.
Yet, I am afraid. I am afraid to let go of where I am. Though every day I come to work is a physical and emotional pain, I am unwilling to let that security go. Those my health has diminished and my weight ballooned (both of these are directly attributable to what I do) I still refuse to leave. I have these voices, these terrible, logical and wise voices, that tell me that I have responsibilities to attend to and that I should not risk poverty for their sake. These voices are strong and well informed. There will be many a hard year were I to leave.
It is here that I face my own words. It is here that I am forced to confront my own statements. Statements in which I believe in, but which I find myself unable to implement. I know that it is better to be poor and doing what I love. I know that a risk now could pay off even better and that if I was able to dedicate myself, 100%, to what I want I would succeed. Beyond that, do I really want to side with those who take the safe path? Those who choose regret over action?
Yet, this is exactly what I am doing.
So, this blog now has a purpose. This is Text and Hubris. This is the last refuge for that part of me that is willing to risk. Here I will chronicle my escape and my reasons for it. If it falls, it means that I have fallen. It means that I have given up and resigned myself to the hell in which I currently live.
May it never fall….
