June 5, 2007 | Filed under: I Write About My Feelings, People I Like Even More Than My Job
You know, if you don’t want to run again, I respect that. But if you don’t run because you think it’s gonna be too hard or you think you’re gonna lose, well, God, Jed, I don’t even want to know you.
A while back I had dinner with my friend Danielle and, as we put back a bottle of wine, we discussed our respective career plans and personal life exploits and hatched plots to Escape from
Of course, in looking ahead to the future, we also analyzed the past — what worked, what didn’t, how we ended up where we are. About her selection of undergrad majors, she said, “Everyone said it was hard, so I was going to do it.”
And in that one moment, our eight years of friendship suddenly made a lot more sense.
I don’t know that I choose things simply because they’re hard, but I certainly don’t shy away from things that are challenging. (See, e.g.,: moving to
I really don’t mind new challenges, but what is driving me nuts is the seeming endlessness of the quest. The pursuit of a goal, without any intermediate victories to sustain me, my god, it is soul-sucking. It makes me question whether the pain is really worth it. It makes me wonder if I shouldn’t stop with the banging-head-against-a-brick-wall lifestyle.
I expressed some of my doubts to Danielle, explained why my pursuits are nearly in vain, why perhaps I should focus on a slightly more attainable goal — like single-handedly curing cancer — rather than continue headlong down this endless path of futility, how I have to come to terms with the fact that maybe things aren’t going to work out for me like I want them to.
She looked at me, and asked pointedly, “But you’re not giving up, right?”
And the thing is, for all my doubts (not doubts in my abilities, mind you, doubts that The Universe will come through for me) and all my pragmatic thinking and the reminders that maybe I won’t get what I want, I.Will.Not.Give.Up.
So. What’s next?













