Watched a Swiss-German film last night, Vitus. Basic story is a young piano prodigy and all-around genius has to find his way. He has the overbearing support of his mother and the loose, supportive freedom of a Yoda-like grandfather. Tempting morsels include: an interest in bats, insider trading in the stock market, a professional flight simulator, possible brain damage, a babysitter who is the love of his life (at the age of 12), a leaky roof, the Rolls-Royce of hearing aids, and tons of excellent Classical piano music. Subtitled. Highly recommended.
The film raises the excellent question of 'why do you do what you do?' In conversations with S this morning, we agreed that this life seems, on some level, to have 'ended up' here without much piloting. I added that the results are so good that it might be counterproductive to take the wheel at this time. What does that say? It begs the question of what you want and what you desire and what you enjoy (back to Zizek and Lacan, to an extent). In the film, Vitus must break away from playing to piano for his mother's reasons and find his own reasons. We all carry baggage from the early years. But what have we settled on enjoying?
For example, if we are to anatomize my history a bit, I started in grad school not because I loved Henrician England or the Renaissance, but because I had a good undergrad teacher and wanted to teach. Grad school allowed me to do that a little, but required me to divert a lot of energy trying to be good at something that I turned out not to be good at, research in a foreign language. Teaching was my oasis, and the archives were my burden. I can say that now. I slogged through because I am also somewhat OCD about completing things.
So, I did not find a history teaching job. Let's not go into the reasons, because it doesn't matter now. Anyway, I gravitated to a job teaching computers, not because I was particularly adept with the things, but because it gave me the chance to teach for 6-8 hours per day, 50 weeks a year, for 10 years. And I grew. And I learned. And I evolved into that shape, the shape of a teaching person.
So, that company ended, and I got a job as a DBA. Being a trained communicator in the IT field helps differentiate you, BTW, so I rose in the pay grades and the titles. I became a manager and am one today. I work. I enjoy it some days, and not other days, but I always take it seriously (perhaps too much on some days).
But, where did the teaching go? In most conversations, I have said that the end of my dissertation process was the cutting of the anchor-line causing me to drift. That may not be true. Rather, the end of my teaching job may more accurately be the beginning of my fade. My ups and downs have become more pronounced since I don't have the teaching outlet for my pent-up teacher-nature.
So, what to do now? Teach at night? Become a certified tennis trainer? Teach a church class or two? Learn something new that I can then teach to others? What would that be? As I come to recognize myself better (blogging is part of that discernment process), perhaps I will better be able to target the next step in my evolution, rather than letting the pilotless boat keep going where it will.
The film raises the excellent question of 'why do you do what you do?' In conversations with S this morning, we agreed that this life seems, on some level, to have 'ended up' here without much piloting. I added that the results are so good that it might be counterproductive to take the wheel at this time. What does that say? It begs the question of what you want and what you desire and what you enjoy (back to Zizek and Lacan, to an extent). In the film, Vitus must break away from playing to piano for his mother's reasons and find his own reasons. We all carry baggage from the early years. But what have we settled on enjoying?
For example, if we are to anatomize my history a bit, I started in grad school not because I loved Henrician England or the Renaissance, but because I had a good undergrad teacher and wanted to teach. Grad school allowed me to do that a little, but required me to divert a lot of energy trying to be good at something that I turned out not to be good at, research in a foreign language. Teaching was my oasis, and the archives were my burden. I can say that now. I slogged through because I am also somewhat OCD about completing things.
So, I did not find a history teaching job. Let's not go into the reasons, because it doesn't matter now. Anyway, I gravitated to a job teaching computers, not because I was particularly adept with the things, but because it gave me the chance to teach for 6-8 hours per day, 50 weeks a year, for 10 years. And I grew. And I learned. And I evolved into that shape, the shape of a teaching person.
So, that company ended, and I got a job as a DBA. Being a trained communicator in the IT field helps differentiate you, BTW, so I rose in the pay grades and the titles. I became a manager and am one today. I work. I enjoy it some days, and not other days, but I always take it seriously (perhaps too much on some days).
But, where did the teaching go? In most conversations, I have said that the end of my dissertation process was the cutting of the anchor-line causing me to drift. That may not be true. Rather, the end of my teaching job may more accurately be the beginning of my fade. My ups and downs have become more pronounced since I don't have the teaching outlet for my pent-up teacher-nature.
So, what to do now? Teach at night? Become a certified tennis trainer? Teach a church class or two? Learn something new that I can then teach to others? What would that be? As I come to recognize myself better (blogging is part of that discernment process), perhaps I will better be able to target the next step in my evolution, rather than letting the pilotless boat keep going where it will.
1 comment:
Doktah Rick: As I contemplate your life arc and compare it with mine (we ran parallel there for a time) I am intrigued how we each went to grad school expecting something and came away from grad school with something unexpected. You mention baggage--the baggage of past decisions and influences and the baggage of personal weakness, proclivity--but I want to suggest that there is also what Joseph Campbell calls Bliss, in his bumper-sticker wisdom: follow your bliss. I did not necessarily care to teach, and yet I find myself completely immersed in teaching. I would have preferred to research and write. If writing is my "bliss" then I must follow it--and yet bills come due monthly. Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike teaching--in fact I do enjoy it. I like to say, I teach for love, they pay me to grade. But I would much prefer to write and make money writing. Not there yet, unfortunately. Will I ever get there? What is holding me back? What baggage is weighing me down in that avenue of my life? I don't think we "end up" anywhere (my last point)--we are piloting always, but sometimes we want to stay the course for one reason or another. If I, for example, had no mortgage, no children needing support, I would probably seek more tenaciously to write for a living. Is that cowardice or pragmatism?
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