Days of futures passed
The biggest thing on my horizon at the moment, of course, is the fact that in 72 hours, I'll be on a plane on the way to London. Yay!
But I'm also looking ahead of that, since I've been tying up loose ends at work, and figuring out what I'll need to do there when I get back. And I'm realizing that I'm probably in for one hell of a bout of post-travel depression, because the adoption is the only big thing I can see in my near future, and hanging my hat solely on that isn't exactly a recipe for mental health.
My contract's over at the end of June (unless our geek-media guy convinces them to keep me on through Comic-Con) and then I'll have 3 1/2 months of cooling my heels between contracts. We'll be getting the adoption stuff rolling shortly after our return, and I'll also undoubtedly spend some time mucking around in my back yard and enjoying the weather and such, plus enjoying my summer shows.
But beyond that? Nothing. So if the adoption somehow tanks, I'm left with... what, exactly?
While not what I dreamed as a wee thing (fame, fortune, cabana boys), I think what I managed to accomplish in the first 40 years of my life is pretty decent. Spouse, education, financial stability, relatively useful job skills, etc. All things I worked very hard for. If I died tomorrow, I wouldn't necessarily think my life was wasted. A lot of bad choices and luck, definitely, but a lot of good, too. Above average, on balance, I'd say.
But I'm not entirely sure about the last 20 years. Would like to get the novel published and maybe write a few more, but that's a total crapshoot. And if we do get a little one, obviously a good 2/3 of my daily life is going to be taken up with shaping a future responsible adult. But I know myself well enough to know that that--even with some possible writing on the side--isn't going to be enough for me. And it's that gap that I'm a little worried about.
In some ways, I've sort of looked at this as an early retirement phase, especially given that my health probably means I won't see many years past 60. I spent 20-40 scrambling to get to this point, so the rest is coasting and enjoying life, right? Travel, hobbies, general indulgence in things that make me happy. But I feel like I'm too young, still, for that kind of coasting. I feel like there's more I still need to achieve before I kick back and rest on my laurels. This is the time when most people perfect their careers and master their skills, and I'm not sure I have something to do that with, yet. I keep asking myself, "OK, you're here. Now what?" and not finding an answer.
In truth, I envy people who can content themselves with friends, family and a non-soul-sucking job that pays the bills. I've always--always--felt my life had to have something more. I've cut my expectations down from the worldwide fame and political power I imagined at age 10, yeah, but I still need something else--something uniquely mine--to point to. I have just this one life, and I have above-average skills in certain things, and I can't stand the idea of wasting that just... existing. I want to leave more of myself when I die than a kid, a paid-off mortgage and a crapload of vacation photos.
The question is: What?
Maybe three weeks on another continent will give me some epiphanies this direction. I hope so. I'm never content unless I'm working toward a big goal, and too much time being less than useful will drive me batty.
But I'm also looking ahead of that, since I've been tying up loose ends at work, and figuring out what I'll need to do there when I get back. And I'm realizing that I'm probably in for one hell of a bout of post-travel depression, because the adoption is the only big thing I can see in my near future, and hanging my hat solely on that isn't exactly a recipe for mental health.
My contract's over at the end of June (unless our geek-media guy convinces them to keep me on through Comic-Con) and then I'll have 3 1/2 months of cooling my heels between contracts. We'll be getting the adoption stuff rolling shortly after our return, and I'll also undoubtedly spend some time mucking around in my back yard and enjoying the weather and such, plus enjoying my summer shows.
But beyond that? Nothing. So if the adoption somehow tanks, I'm left with... what, exactly?
While not what I dreamed as a wee thing (fame, fortune, cabana boys), I think what I managed to accomplish in the first 40 years of my life is pretty decent. Spouse, education, financial stability, relatively useful job skills, etc. All things I worked very hard for. If I died tomorrow, I wouldn't necessarily think my life was wasted. A lot of bad choices and luck, definitely, but a lot of good, too. Above average, on balance, I'd say.
But I'm not entirely sure about the last 20 years. Would like to get the novel published and maybe write a few more, but that's a total crapshoot. And if we do get a little one, obviously a good 2/3 of my daily life is going to be taken up with shaping a future responsible adult. But I know myself well enough to know that that--even with some possible writing on the side--isn't going to be enough for me. And it's that gap that I'm a little worried about.
In some ways, I've sort of looked at this as an early retirement phase, especially given that my health probably means I won't see many years past 60. I spent 20-40 scrambling to get to this point, so the rest is coasting and enjoying life, right? Travel, hobbies, general indulgence in things that make me happy. But I feel like I'm too young, still, for that kind of coasting. I feel like there's more I still need to achieve before I kick back and rest on my laurels. This is the time when most people perfect their careers and master their skills, and I'm not sure I have something to do that with, yet. I keep asking myself, "OK, you're here. Now what?" and not finding an answer.
In truth, I envy people who can content themselves with friends, family and a non-soul-sucking job that pays the bills. I've always--always--felt my life had to have something more. I've cut my expectations down from the worldwide fame and political power I imagined at age 10, yeah, but I still need something else--something uniquely mine--to point to. I have just this one life, and I have above-average skills in certain things, and I can't stand the idea of wasting that just... existing. I want to leave more of myself when I die than a kid, a paid-off mortgage and a crapload of vacation photos.
The question is: What?
Maybe three weeks on another continent will give me some epiphanies this direction. I hope so. I'm never content unless I'm working toward a big goal, and too much time being less than useful will drive me batty.