Cold Feet, Courage, and Risk

I’m home in Rhode Island for the first time in six weeks. I suppose that amount of time isn’t too great compared to months away at school or years away in the military. Fortunately, I hope I will never experience the latter. As I sit and type, I’m drinking a glass of tap water which is quite delicious and refreshing compared to the tap water in New York. I’ve noticed a distinct taste in the ice cubes as well. Although my family is a mere fraction of Irish descent, the house is filled with the scent of corned beef, cabbage, and soda bread—not one of my favorite meals. But, after all, it is something that I will always associate with being at my parents’ house. The smell of the sheets on my own bed and the way they are tucked under the mattress in a way that only a mother can do without effort. In high school, especially on a cool almost spring day, I would purposely leave the windows open in my room to air out the stench of winter, smoky clothes, and my brother’s laundry which is, more often than not, strewn about the cold faded hardwood floor. More than that, for me, there is nothing more comfortable than getting into bed and under the sheets without socks on, wrestling with the sheets a little bit, and laying there with cold sheets on my feet. I know this isn't normal--but this is me, the real Jimmy.

Out in the kitchen, I can hear one of the black labs playing with a rawhide bone and rather than annoying it is somewhat soothing to know exactly the source that unique noise is coming from. The house is always noisy, whether it’s 5am or 11pm. There are sounds that I am so used to, even if they are, at times, bothersome.

Another few days will pass and I will head back to New York. It has been quite an interesting experience traveling back and forth for almost eight months, although I would never wish the circumstances of my extended vacation from full-time work on myself or anyone. Looking back over the past several months, I feel I wasted so much time applying for jobs, researching on the Internet, procrastinating, feeling the urge to clear the visited pages history, and meticulously organizing the folders and files on the Mac desktop. Not once did I just go to the beach, watch the surf, and write. Not once did I exercise in my basement gym, also called “the dungeon.” Although, I have spent countless hours going for walks, playing with Jack the seven pound wonder, and worrying myself to death about finding employment, I have managed to realize quite a bit about myself and the person I am trying to be.

I have managed to set up some blogs, including this one, for my poetry, random thoughts, ponderings, digressions, rants, and social commentary but I feel I have neglected this and other resources in all that time out of work. Perhaps, I am being too critical of myself. For the past few months, I have been trying see the positive side of things. A couple of weeks ago, I had yet another job interview in NYC. This time, it was for a position at an advertising agency. The interview, I felt, went fairly well and I was looking forward to hearing back from the company. Rather than taking the F or V uptown to Penn, I decided to walk, seeing that it was only 11 blocks or so. Naturally, I was thinking. And, as I tend to do, I was questioning what it is I really want out of life (which may or may not have influenced my writing the previous blog). Due to my decision to walk to the train station to catch a train back to Long Island, I managed to miss the train by 3 minutes. I thought to myself, no big deal, I will just get a coffee. Starbucks, yada yada yada, $4 later. Much better than my delicious, although overpriced, latte was the insightful quote printed on the recycled cardboard cup, “Failure's hard, but success is far more dangerous. If you're successful at the wrong thing, the mix of praise and money and opportunity can lock you in forever.” This quote is from a book written by Po Bronson What Should I Do With My Life?. Of course, I didn’t know the title of the book till I went “home” to Google the quote and author. Although I did attempt purchasing this book at two stores, I have yet to buy and read the book. Nonetheless, I found it so intriguing and fitting to my current predicament. It turns out that this book is not incredibly old but pretty damn old; recent enough to be in print but old enough to not be available in stores. Although I have done some research regarding commentary on, and reviews of, the book, I feel the title of the book speaks volumes on its own.

What should I do with my life? What should anyone do with their life? Either way, why? What are your motivations? More importantly, what are my motivations and desires? Do my desires stand to count for anything anymore? Why do I torment myself with all of these questions and why all the time? Essentially, and quite matter-of-factly, we question things in an attempt to determine or understand things about ourselves and the choices we make, have made, and will make. As I mentioned, I looked into the book, without purchasing it. A section of the book I’ve become particularly interested in reading concerns “Courage and Risk.” Certainly, these two things are tied to one another in many obvious and not-so-obvious ways. To make some sense of the point I am trying to make, I wanted to share some lines from this section of the book.
“You can make decisions to pad your wallet. You can make decisions to maintain proper appearances. You can make decisions because they're safe or predictable. You can make decisions because it'll keep your parents off your back. You can make decisions simply to delay making harder decisions.”

In particular, and especially, when we are “young adults” (whatever that means) we are forced to make decisions e.g. work while in high school, get good grades, apply to colleges near home, apply to colleges far from home, choose a school, choose friends, choose a major, and choose a career? We are often asked to make decisions that are not necessarily well-informed or guided in any particular way. But once you graduate college, it is very much up to you. Now, I’m not just addressing this because I experienced a very long period of unemployment after receiving my Master’s and losing my job, but more so because Po Bronson wrote this book at an early age, previous to 25 years of age, I believe. This book is so interesting because Bronson is asking himself the same question as he asked the individuals he profiled for this book. “What should I do with my life?” Now, Bronson is a bestselling author and I would speculate that he was few doubts about what he has done with his life.

I have not achieved a great realization about myself because of my research on this book. (As I mentioned, I have intentions to, but have not yet read this book). Over the past few months, however, I have been writing two books. More so, I am writing two books because someone took a chance on me and someone saw that I had potential and the inherent ability necessary to perform such a task. Whether any of that is true, I am actually quite happy. Have I neglected writing what I want as a result? Yes. Although unemployed, I must admit that I am the happiest and most positive I have been in many years; perhaps, even prior to my undergraduate studies. I have not yet returned to “full-time” work or the “9 to 5 turned 8 to 7 grind,” and do not resent anyone for the situation I have had to face everyday for nearly eight months. Even if I find my “dream job,” whatever that may be, I feel I will always, in one way or another, be looking for something to say “I do…” Along with Bronson's words and other sources, I have realized that for once I am happy and, I feel, it’s because I feel I’ve not only found, but already knew, what I wanted to do with my life.