not progress
each new day, I make an effort to journal, or as I like to think of it, sit there for much longer than I am proud to admit staring at a blank sheet of lined paper in the hopes that I will be visited by whatever ghost or spirit or other invisible force responsible for those who have had epiphonic bursts of revelation imbuing them with unwavering certitude. But most of the time my entries look more like this:
“already 11 a.m. my, where has the time gone. think I’ll try again tomorrow.”
of course, it could be argued that what my brain decides to pump out at the time of my journaling is exactly what it is that my brain feels the needs to get out. and now, as I write this post, I find myself in a state of journaling, letting spill forth from my brain exactly what it needs to get out.
this thought leads me to another I have had recently: that of the control over one’s destiny. It sounds haughty when I put it like that, but I assure any reader that I will do as best I can to keep it ‘down to earth.’ I’d only embarrass myself otherwise, although I have proven time again to excel in that particular area.
anyway, I got to thinking of all the possible directions that my life could have taken, but more specifically, could take from here. of course, not considering significant economic committment on my part, there aren’t necessarilly infinite, but I have been seeing my future as existing beyond a vast, yawning portal, but one with guarded by earth’s harshest bouncer.
when initially conjuring this image in my mind, of the prototypical bouncer guarding the portal to my destiny, I couldn’t help but think back to Monty Python’s Holy Grail, wherein the protagonists, a road-weary chivalric order, come, late in the film, upon yet another obstacle to conquer, this time in the form of the Bridge of Death, of course striking fear into our heroe’s hearts. Soon appears a bridge-troll who informs the knights that in order to cross the bridge, which they know they need to do, they must first confront a riddle in the form of thre questions:
- What is your name?
- What is your quest?
But the third question becomes variable. for the third question, the first knight to be tasked with answering is asked, “what is your favorite color?” to which the knight quicly and assuredly answers, “blue.” The bridge-troll amicably proclaims that this knight is granted passage.
The next knight to approach is asked the first two questions, answering with ease, but for the third question, this knight is asked, “what is the capital of assyria?”
this knight, who was clearly expecting to be asked what his favorite color was, hesitated, eyes searching in bewilderment. he irratably admits he doesn’t know the answer and is forthwith thrown from the ground on which he stands into the uncertain abyss of what we can only assume is an awful death.
with a disconcerting lack of apprehension (I guess knights really are that brave aren’t they?), the third knight approaches, is asked the exact same three questions as the first night, answering the first two with ease. without thinking, in response to the third question (“what is your favorite color?”) the third knight blurts out, “blue,” then pauses a moment, panics and tries to correct himself, but it’s too late. the bridge-troll has caught him in a moment of uncertainty, and he too is flung off the cliff to his death.
the penultimate knight approaches, and again the third question differs: “what is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?”
this is a callback to something earlier in the movie, and instead of the final knight providing an answer, he asks the bridge-troll for clarification: “an african or european swallow?”
the bridge troll is now the one who is stumped and himself (itself?) hurls into the precipitous gorge, allowing the final two knights to pass.
this, I reckon, is all a way to think about all the forces controlling our progression through life. invisible forces given a face, a personality, a weird gravelly voice, warts, odious aroma and a yecchy beard. the metaphorical bouncer can take any sort of form.
it’s presence can be borderline maddening. it can also be a force for good, but because maddening is a stronger emotion than, maybe not revenge, but than satisfaction, I can’t help but linger on the maddeningness.
barriers are put in place, blocking off things both physical and psychical, for numerous reasons, many of them very sensible. but what happens when the reasons become nonsensical, part of a routine or system, absurd? they aren’t rendered meaningless because by their existence as barriers keeping us from something they are still performing their task, just devoid purpose.
the idea of barriers, blockades, bridge trolls, has been top of mind lately as I work to get a new job. I find myself scanning job postings, reading the responsibilities and required experience, etc, and, upon realizing that my skills, abilities, experience, et al., check all the boxes, I apply. thus far, I am boasting a 0% success rate.
of course, there are many (an understatement) highly qualified professionals out there all applying for the same gigs, and I won’t claim to expect to be considered for every job I apply for. Far from it.
but that isn’t what is so maddening to me. at the end of the day, I really just want to get back to work, doing something I enjoy. but the barriers remain. so instead of being able to direct my skills and energies toward a professional goal, I am stuck directing them at overcoming the barriers.
that’s why I have made the decision to take all the skills I have developed over the years in web design, copywriting and content, editing, creative direction, and more, and see what I can create on my own, where the only barriers will be ones I can control.
I am going to start with web design, building out websites and consulting on copy, as well as offering to manage the sites I build.
it’s all a complete unknown but at least it’s something I can control, and to be working again on something I enjoy is the most important thing.
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