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Welcome to our readers' forums, which we fondly call The Arena. You must be REGISTERED to post here.
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I think you're a talented dude.
Read your blog a bit after reading this post here and felt it more, certainly more than I did at the fray. I tend to like pathos, though.
Anyway, no comment on your choice since I can't relate well enough - it'd be a monstrous mistake for me. Most seconds I am aware that I am one second closer to death, but going out farming would feel like giving up on life to me (just a personal thing). It wouldn't feel that way if I were successful enough at some vaguely intellectual pursuit to drop out and do that (writing the most standard) in addition to everything else. Anyway, the only standard caution is to try stuff out if you can before doing it and that drastic changes are often costly to reverse. |
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Hey, ghost.
I used to be a voracious reader. Oh, sure, I have a book going at any given time. Sort of. But grad school cured me of wanting to read the same way going to music school in New York caused me not to play the piano for about 9 years. (Oh, sure, I still played. But I didn't "play".) Now I'm a voracious TV and (bad) movie watcher.
I can understand the dropping out criticism. It's not so much that I'm burnt out. I'm just in the middle of the mother of all ruts. I won't mislead anyone and shy away from the fact that my mom will be 67 and I don't get to see her as often as I should. That's a big factor. Must protect my reputation as a momma's boy, being the youngest of 5.
Both my mom and dad grew up on farms. Both their dads retired in their late 50s, moved to "town", and died at 63. In her book, Kingsolver talks about the disconnect between urban and rural living, between food producers and food consumers, between agriculture and agribusiness, between us and the land. Ideally, and I mean ideally literally, I'd have a ridiculously large garden, a side job, rabbit ears, an internet connection, dare I hope: an audience for those who care, and an unrecognizably improved attitude spun 180 degrees. The challenge as I see it, today, tomorrow, next week, next month, in May, is getting from where I am to where I want to be.
It's extremely difficult for me to admit, as a 40 year old man, that I'd like to retire in my 40s, move to the farm, and die at 63 (okay, 73), and wake up each day thinking what I do/think/say matters. Especially for me, in the best sense, as opposed to the unhealthy mindset I'm currently buried under.
So the way I see it, I actually dropped out about 5 years ago. The irony for me is that moving to a cabin in the woods would be, well, dropping back in, if you think about it.
I moved to ski country after dropping out of grad school with nothing but student loans and a really cute rock climbing girlfriend. I've lived hand-to-mouth before. I honestly don't know if I'm up for it. But something deep in my... formerly voracious reading heart tells me I need to find out. I'm not kidding myself. I have a safety net. (What sort of insane family travels all the way down here to surprise the black sheep on his birthday?) But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't terrified and unsure. Especially since I'll probably take a beating financially this week.
I hate to tell you this, but I was a big fan of yours over there. But I was so green that I had to rely on one of Ender's/daveto's/deej's "ghost sighting" posts.
Reversals indeed can be costly. I'm spending my days trying to decide what's more costly: reversals, or not taking leaps of, for lack of a better word, faith. |
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