Wanderlust pt. 1
I had in my youth a great sense of longing to be someplace else. Although I knew that I'd always be my Mother's Son, I had to seek, search and discover all of the things I had read about in books. I spent a good deal of my time as a kid reading things like National Geographic and copious volumes of the World Book Encyclopedia series, in addition to numerous books on travel. I would pull out the maps they send with the National Geographic magazines and study them for hours, memorizing names and places, roads and rivers. When I got down to it, Texas in all its vastness just seemed to be just too small for my wanderlust and imagination to be appeased. No one really expected me to stick around very long after I got out of High School, I don’t think.
I enlisted in the Navy shortly before graduation, and ended up getting called up early for boot camp in July instead of November as was planned. I spent two months in the Chicago area going to basic training, and then another four months in Virginia going through technical school. I took orders to go to an aircraft carrier out in Washington State after technical school, and reported aboard the U.S.S. Nimitz early on in 1990. So began a most tumultuous adventure that’s still in progress. I went rather blindly out into the world to begin figuring out what the hell I was supposed to do with my life. According to some, in that mission I failed. But failure depends on how you look at things, really. I've always been a little skeptical of the notion that you absolutely must have a plan for your life so early on.
From the onset of puberty, and sometimes much earlier in life, we begin being programmed, mainly by our teachers and parents, to think that we must have some sort of plan for our lives, to know what we're supposed to do with the remainder of our time here on earth, however short. Those who didn't would surely wind up flipping burgers in a fast food joint until death took them away from their dismal pointless life.
Back in my day and generations before, depending on how adamant parents are in the way of life decisions, a lot of people probably wind up doing something relatively close to what their folks had in mind for them. It's not really the parent’s fault per se. The reason being is that the drive to have our children somehow be as successful as or more so than we are. Other times, some of us have an idea of what we'd like our lives to turn out to be like. What happens then, if one day we wake up and realize that what we may be doing in life is completely wrong, or that our chosen or ordained "career" isn't as fulfilling as what it was made out to be? Based on that question, I have resisted the resignation of my life to just one cause, one job, and one career. Since I became aware of the world outside my doorstep, I have been pursuing the existence of experience, and gaining wisdom and enlightenment through that experience.
I felt that what I had to learn in life couldn’t be taught in books. I can't explain it any simpler than to say that I wasn't really interested in being tied down to something any longer than I had to be. I did exactly what was required of me with the least amount of effort as possible, namely graduating High School, and did my best to get out of town. In retrospect, I think I was itchy to get started. College had briefly crossed my mind at some point, and would have been a good thing I'm sure. Though I really couldn't commit fully to the college routine, mainly out of fear of the requisite math courses, I did wind up doing some independent study and even attended a few lectures out West when I was there. Still, it didn't really interest me. It may well have saved me from the culture shock I got when I left home for good by staving off the inevitable thrust out into the world. Be that as it may however, I don't feel that the path I chose is for everyone to follow.
Experience is the essence of life; it is what we are put here for. Essentially, everything you put on top of that (your house, your car, or your career) is nothing more than baggage. I am sometimes a little envious of young kids today in that their eyes seem to be a little more open to the world as it is.
I enlisted in the Navy shortly before graduation, and ended up getting called up early for boot camp in July instead of November as was planned. I spent two months in the Chicago area going to basic training, and then another four months in Virginia going through technical school. I took orders to go to an aircraft carrier out in Washington State after technical school, and reported aboard the U.S.S. Nimitz early on in 1990. So began a most tumultuous adventure that’s still in progress. I went rather blindly out into the world to begin figuring out what the hell I was supposed to do with my life. According to some, in that mission I failed. But failure depends on how you look at things, really. I've always been a little skeptical of the notion that you absolutely must have a plan for your life so early on.
From the onset of puberty, and sometimes much earlier in life, we begin being programmed, mainly by our teachers and parents, to think that we must have some sort of plan for our lives, to know what we're supposed to do with the remainder of our time here on earth, however short. Those who didn't would surely wind up flipping burgers in a fast food joint until death took them away from their dismal pointless life.
Back in my day and generations before, depending on how adamant parents are in the way of life decisions, a lot of people probably wind up doing something relatively close to what their folks had in mind for them. It's not really the parent’s fault per se. The reason being is that the drive to have our children somehow be as successful as or more so than we are. Other times, some of us have an idea of what we'd like our lives to turn out to be like. What happens then, if one day we wake up and realize that what we may be doing in life is completely wrong, or that our chosen or ordained "career" isn't as fulfilling as what it was made out to be? Based on that question, I have resisted the resignation of my life to just one cause, one job, and one career. Since I became aware of the world outside my doorstep, I have been pursuing the existence of experience, and gaining wisdom and enlightenment through that experience.
I felt that what I had to learn in life couldn’t be taught in books. I can't explain it any simpler than to say that I wasn't really interested in being tied down to something any longer than I had to be. I did exactly what was required of me with the least amount of effort as possible, namely graduating High School, and did my best to get out of town. In retrospect, I think I was itchy to get started. College had briefly crossed my mind at some point, and would have been a good thing I'm sure. Though I really couldn't commit fully to the college routine, mainly out of fear of the requisite math courses, I did wind up doing some independent study and even attended a few lectures out West when I was there. Still, it didn't really interest me. It may well have saved me from the culture shock I got when I left home for good by staving off the inevitable thrust out into the world. Be that as it may however, I don't feel that the path I chose is for everyone to follow.
Experience is the essence of life; it is what we are put here for. Essentially, everything you put on top of that (your house, your car, or your career) is nothing more than baggage. I am sometimes a little envious of young kids today in that their eyes seem to be a little more open to the world as it is.
posted by in.dog.neato at 4:58 AM
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