What’s your dream job?
One that involves interacting with only a small group of familiar people, and which allows for a great deal of deep thought and introspection. (And for the tricky part to reconcile,) one that involves / or allows for a good deal of travel.
Is your life today what you pictured a year ago?
I make no predictions. Forecasting is a sucker’s game.
Tell us about your first day at something — school, work, as a parent, etc.
I can’t say I have strong recollections of any of them. I have a vague recollection of the flight to basic training (first time flying, but mostly I remember there was a drunk dude sitting next to me,) but I don’t recall anything from my first day in the military proper. No first days of school or on any job have stuck.
I guess my clearest memory is for the most recent major first — first day living in Bangalore, India (a little over eleven years ago.) I must say, however, I just remember snippets of being lost in a walk around the neighborhood. One might expect a first day in urban India to be daunting / overwhelming- even for a reasonably well-traveled Westerner, but if it was I don’t remember that bit.
"Time to put off the world and go somewhere
And find my health again in the sea air,"
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
"And make my soul before my pate is bare;
"And get a comfortable wife and house
To rid me of the devil in my shoes,"
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
"And the worse devil that is between my thighs.
"And though I'd marry with a comely lass,
She need not be too comely -- let it pass,"
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
"But there's a devil in a looking glass.
"Nor should she be too rich, because the rich
Are driven by wealth as beggars by the itch,"
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
"And cannot have a humorous happy speech.
"And there I'll grow respected at my ease,
And hear amid the garden's nightly peace,"
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
"The wind-blown clamor of the barnacle-geese."
Just, oh so many of them. Virtually all of them. I’ve succeeded in every breath I took (so far, fingers crossed.)
Half of my life is gone, and I have let
The years slip from me and have not
fulfilled
The aspiration of my youth, to build
Some tower of song with lofty parapet.
Not indolence, nor pleasure, nor the fret
Of restless passions that would not be
stilled,
But sorrow, and a care that almost killed,
Kept me from what I may accomplish yet;
Though, half-way up the hill, I see the Past
Lying beneath me with its sounds and
sights, --
A city in the twilight dim and vast,
With smoking roofs, soft bells, and
gleaming lights, --
And hear above me on the autumnal blast
The cataract of Death far thundering
from the heights.
What’s the hardest decision you’ve ever had to make? Why?
Probably to leave a job. Because it was a move from stability, security, and respectability to… not.
My death days --
Strange and wondrous --
Will come soon enough.
I can feel their thrum
At the edge of my mind,
A slow and rumbling pulsation
That signals
The END is nigh.
I don't fear them.
Like a rumbling freight train,
I assume they won't plow
Through my front door --
But, rather, will wait for me
To become freight.
Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;
There are four seasons in the mind of man:
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He has his Summer, when luxuriously
Spring's honied cud of youthful thought
he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high
Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness -- to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature.
