Educational Misconfiguration: Part 1

I feel lucky to have such an amazing educational background.  In my opinion, I came from what is possibly the best school in the nation— it certainly gave me the best education that I could have possibly obtained. Rensselaer was a place that let me express myself freely and openly.  School is a harbor before the storm of life (see: job), and my school was certainly well stocked with the supplies that I needed to weather my future.

I probably wouldn’t have said that my first two or three years though.  I spent a little more than half of my time at RPI hating it.  I was unwilling to recognize my college as anything more than an obstacle and challenge in the way of my potential future.  Each class, day, and season was just another hurdle that I needed to overcome on my way to the real world.  I held no fear, no anger, no animosity—I was just simply disinterested and impeded.

I’m not sure what broke me out of that.  It could have been a drastic change of my friends, the addition of “real” major specific classes, or just an overall lack of energy.  Eventually though, I broke.  I lost interest in the future and began to live in the moment.  No longer did I strictly view class an obstacle, it took shape and form, gained personality and presented itself as a fully articulate entity.  Rather than just doing what I was doing as a means to an end, I was excited and did relished in my work—sometimes reworking and repeating tasks simply for the joy of doing it again.

I was, for the first time in my life, fully and wholly interested in the everything I had at the moment.  I was content, I did not want another project, nor did I want to be done with my current one.  I was for the first time enjoying life rather than working my hardest so that I could enjoy it in the future.

Eventually I became complacent, and the spark that made this all possible died with the fire of my energy.  I had a dull period of almost a year.  It was probably the worst and most challenging period of my life.  However, my friends and school supported me to the best of their ability and I emerged from my challenges far ahead of the game.

But now I find myself constantly looking back…

Joined

 

Often I feel as if my life is trying to tell me something.  Events tend to link up, like in movies, and push me into a choice through a tide of manipulation.  I can move against it, fully braced to the power of the wave, or I can be pushed by the tide and let myself get carried in the flow of the current.  Sometimes the tide is as strong as a train barreling through the open country, blaring its horn proudly to cut the fog of the night.  While other times it’s a soft whisper in the wind, unheard and barely noticeable to the leaves in a tree.

The other day I watched an episode of one of my favorite TV shows.  A character came across a long lost lover- who she had to abandon due to the laws of society.  Where she comes from, it is taboo to reacquaint with someone whom you have been separated with for over five years (no matter how the separation took place).  However they were both placed in a position where their mutual company was unavoidable, and as other onlookers questioned their relationship and called it “unnatural” they continued to interact, carefully, but with pride.

Eventually she reached “the point of no return”, and was unsure of how to proceed.  She went for advice and was told that her choice was simple: to be without love, or to be in exile.  She was unsure which meant the most to her and proceeded impulsively.  She made a mistake, and though an action completely unrelated to her relationship she almost destroyed it.  In the process, she learned the true value of her mate, and how much she cared for him.

Unfortunately that epiphany was one sided, and her mate, only seeing her mistake, decided to move on with life and leave despite the pain and anguish it brought him.  My protagonist now has to live on with that mistake, in a life she didn’t choose, knowing fully what she did wrong.

I was recently in a very similar situation.  I acted impulsively, and I did something that severely damaged a relationship that I valued.  Yet, the irony of the situation is that I had no idea how much I cared for it until I had been without it.  And now, I probably will have to carry on with a mistake, down a path I didn’t choose, knowing fully what I have done wrong.

I often take pride in my impulsiveness but…

 damn me!

Essential Growth

 

I’ve recently realized how big of a problem I have with the idea of “security”.  Obviously I want to be protected from criminals, looters, and the likes with whatever blanket is necessary to achieve the goal.  However, I don’t want my security blanket to be so robust that I feel comfortable with it: if I lose my overall sense of fear I’ll become lethargic.  Fear is one of my key motivators in life. 

But on the other end of the spectrum there is no reason why I should fear death, illness, unfair scrutiny, or being incapable of providing for myself.  I need a certain level of security, otherwise I will be unable to focus on some of the “bigger picture” items that I need to focus on.

There is a balance that needs to be achieved—a loose balance that is intrinsically kinetic and can adjust to items that attempt to tip the scale.  Fear is only a good thing when it causes growth, and safety is only a bad thing when it hinders growth.  Therefore my scale needs to have one goal, one conceptual item it needs to preserve, growth.

I think this applies to all spectrums of my life. 

There is no reason for me to have six months worth of my expenditures in savings when my expenditures are based solely on my present income and I have virtually zero assets… but I should have a fear about increasing future income.

I shouldn’t have to lock the door of a safe in a locked home, in a gated condominium, in a low crime city… but I should worry about the quality of the lock to my home.

I shouldn’t have eight rotating passwords online when the information stored behind all eight is identical with identical encryption and security systems… but I should worry about the amount information that I am willing to share with online security systems.

Online security is such a good example of this dumb, empty fear.  People are willing to share practically anything to a company with a banner, promise, and logo.   How many online companies have you given your home address to when they didn’t need it?  How many physical retail stores have you shared the information with?

Fear something until you’ve grown past it enough to provide your own security don’t have someone else do it for you—you’ll only end up cheating yourself.