Wanderlust
that, i'll always trust
Wandering has been by far the most important shaper of my life. I wouldn’t have experienced as much, learnt as much, loved as much, been saddened as much, felt joy as much, given as much, been given to wonder as much if I hadn’t let myself flow, stopping anywhere that felt enticing or even mildly interesting. Then to explore that patch and if I liked it, stay a-while but eventually catch the flow and move on. It’s made my life very rich in experience and perspective. In a world of experts, I made a conscious - perhaps lazy - choice to be a generalist. While that makes me rare or medium-rare, I have no beef with the experts. I learn from them and then I do my own thing which is solve problems. e.g. at work, little bug fixes and correlation co-efficients are not what I’ve ever chased; that’s for the experts and they do - or are supposed to - a good job of it. I try to make it meaningful, useful, applicable, and implementable. And that comes from an understanding of what’s at stake.
I wouldn’t be what I am had I not let myself wander, all the while knowing that it’ll all circle back. In some ways, it represents the triviality and insignificance of individual life and a fatalist acceptance of futility or as Tolkien wrote, of the elves living while facing the long defeat. Even as a very young person I accepted it. That does not mean I gave up on life. Far from it, for that acceptance allowed me to live with a freedom that sadly most people don’t permit themselves. I’ve followed convention where it made sense to me and drunk deeply of a cocktail of my middling intelligence, rampant imagination, and fierce independence to fuel my trip.
Close friends - heck, even people who hardly know me - tell/warn me that I’m very hard on myself. While there’s much I love about myself, I’m way more aware of my flaws. I call myself out in an effort to be better. It works, mostly. So I’m not hard on myself.
This piece of writing might come through to you as the rambling of a pompous, self-obsessed ass. There’s undeniable heft to that opinion. Or you could pick things from it (as also from some of my other bits and bobs of writing), evaluate it, apply it, and use it to solve flaws at least in part if not in full in the most complex, beautiful, fragile creation in your life. I will not insult your intelligence in naming that.
P.S.: Added to my self-obsessed pomposity is my penchant - well ok, incurable, rabid insistence - on silly puns.
Can I just say: I think following your curiosity in the moment is way more rewarding than blindly digging into a topic just to become better at that one thing. I’ve done MOOCs on everything from happiness to the muscular system, to healthy food, work stuff, IT, logistics, negotiations, change management, futures thinking, AI. Why would you want to only specialise when seeing the larger picture gives you so much more understanding?
Plus, all the experts need someone who understands what they’re best at and when they should start singing their little piece in the orchestra.
I’ve been scatter‑minded all my life because I’d rather focus on whatever really has my attention right now than on something I’ve self‑imposed and scheduled. When I do the thing I actually feel the need to do, I can focus for hours, right down the rabbit hole, writing, researching, painting, reading, whatever it might be.
And when I need space, I go into nature and watch how the trees grow. They have fun stories too: which bird stole another’s nest, arguments between squirrels, who last took a poop nearby. They don’t take offense, nutrients are nutrients.