To The Graduate

A year from now, you might face the same sinking feeling that's been nipping at my heels for the past month… It's been a year since I graduated? Already?! What do I even have to show for it?

You might feel the need to report on what you've been up to out there in the real world in a nice succinct "I'm going somewhere with my life" manner. Accountability, to put a positive spin on it. Social pressure, to spin it in the other direction.

When I graduated, I felt the pressure to have an awesome answer to the question "So, what's next?" But that question never leaves. A year later, the big picture is still ambiguous. I highly doubt it'll resolve into crystal clear clarity anytime soon.

In other words, it's completely okay to not know what you're doing next or what "The Plan" is.

So go explore. Read. Meet people. Talk to strangers. Enter their worlds. Expand your world. Do stuff.

But stop for stillness and reflection.

And though I'm giving advice, take advice lightly. Don't discount it. But take it lightly.

It's a balance.

Because we need the guidance of others. But we also need to understand how their paths parallel or intersect with our own, even if we don’t have a clear picture of where our path is headed.

Guess where I'm going?

This time? I've learned.

I visited two candy stores (read: my mom's bookshelf and the SDSU library) for a delicious feast four whole months before heading off to China. Which isn't exactly the one year I was aiming for, but it's certainly better than the two weeks and threefourfive days I gave myself to devour every tidbit of information I could find on Australia and New Zealand last year.

This trip will be rather different because I'll living in one location (studying Chinese) for one year rather than traipsing all over two countries for two months.

After that year? I don't know. Ambiguity seems to be a common theme in life. More language studies? (Scholarships please!) Job searching in the U.S.? Job searching in China? I'm open to anything.

Two and a half months ago, I wrote about goals and said that I'd wander the paths towards 3D animation, graphic design and learning Chinese in China.

3D animation? Reality check. I have a very, very, very long way to go. I'm not giving you up. But you are now in much further realms of possible futures.

Graphic design? Reality check. There is so much more to learn. But you're alive and kicking.

(Learning the above, plus some real-world design projects.)

Studying Chinese in China? Reality check. All the wandering keeps leading back to this path even when I resisted. It hasn't sunk it yet. But that's okay. I'm going to China.

I'm going to China!

Life Lessons Learned on a Bus

Another installment of a peek into the mind of my high school self. Another installment of I haven't really changed. Another installment of why don't I write like this anymore? Another installment of, right, I don't take the time to. Another installment of, well what are you going to do about it?

Now, go.

Life Lessons Learned on a Bus

As I stroll toward the bus stop, I restlessly finger the smooth token whose clones have found a daily home in the pocket of my favorite jeans. Before, its dulled golden center rimmed with a wide band of silver spoke of exciting travels in some foreign country. Now, it’s just the fare for my ride home. I used to scrutinize every facet of the token and feel the raised words and designs. I used to get excited like a five year old in Disneyland when I got to take the bus home. But repetition takes its toll. The once impressive token and adventurous bus ride has turned into a tedious and unwanted addition to my busy high school days.

Lost in my thoughts, I step up into the bus, feed the token to the hungry fare box and wait absentmindedly for my bus transfer. The bus driver hands the rectangular slip to me and without a second thought, I trundle toward the back of the bus hunting for a seat, preferably several empty ones in a row, where I can retain some semblance of my treasured personal space. Alas, the only vacancies are singletons scattered randomly throughout the bus. Yet again, I will have to rub shoulders with complete strangers, all of whom are wrapped up in their own little worlds. Which, in all honesty, is perfectly fine by me. I have more than enough worries, ideas, and random thoughts to keep myself occupied in my own little world during the lengthy ride home.

As the bus starts off again, it slowly becomes apparent that not everyone in the bus is isolated in solitary worlds. Near the front of the bus, a large man with scraggly brown hair and large glasses happily chatters, patters, natters, then chatters again to all and anyone who will listen. He’s like a human megaphone booming his childlike enjoyment of the nuances of life throughout the length of the bus. He doesn’t seem to care – or maybe it doesn’t occur to him – that other people may not want to hear his stories. Yet… there’s something about this man that begins to draw my attention. My solitary world begins to expand slightly as snippets of his chatter filter through my senses.

The bus grinds to a halt at a shady spot downtown for a single passenger. As he steps onto the bus, I note his ripped, grimy clothes and greasy, unwashed hair. He carries a bulging trash bag and I can’t help but wonder what circumstance caused his demise. Perhaps he had a comfortable life at one time or mayb– Ugh. That smell! Light travels faster than smell but the latter certainly demands the most attention. I don’t seem to be the only one whose solitary world has been permeated by the man’s inescapable reek. Aren’t there places where he can go to take a shower? Just one shower would do so much… just one.

The grimy man sits across from me and next to a lean woman who shifts uncomfortably in her seat. Her body instinctively slants away from the man as her hand moves toward her nose in a purposefully vague motion. She makes eye contact across the aisle with the man seated to my left and makes a slight face. A glance. A grimace. A glance and a grimace. That is all it takes to form a connection, a thread, between the two solitary worlds. That is all it takes to erect a wall for the deliberate exclusion of another. That is all it takes to reveal to me that cliques extend far beyond the dramas of the high school scene. That is all it takes to show the power of actions. The bus stops and the woman stands up with an air of relief, interrupting the exclusive connection, and exits the bus without a word.

A young Asian American man with sharp spiked hair, a tight white muscle shirt and a tattoo of a sun creeping over his left shoulder enters and fills the freshly evacuated seat. As the bus begins to move, he leans forward with his hands together and his elbows resting on his knees while a half-empty Coke bottle dangles from his fingers. I follow his tapping feet to the grimy man’s torn and tattered shoes to the immaculate high heels of the African American businesswoman sitting next to him. She sits tall in her seat as she taps efficiently on her PDA with her stylus. I follow the rapid movements of her hand to the motionless hands of the woman next to her whose only movement comes from the jostling of the bus. Her entire body is covered in dark blue, accented by a light gray head covering which frames a dark face with expressive eyes. I follow her head covering and dark eyes to the baseball hat and closed eyes of the old Latino man sitting next to her. He leans wearily on his armrest with his chin in his hand and a transfer pass in his fist.

Five seats.

Five people.

Five cultures.

Five different walks of life that convene for a momentary journey together on the bus before each hurtles off in their own directions and after their own dreams.

As my eyes travel back over the group, I realize that this group is America; the land where differences in cultures can be accepted and understood, the land where communities and connections are created between the most unexpected people, the land where… I become aware of the rhythm of the man’s rapping feet… the tapping of the woman’s stylus… the movements of the covered woman… the rustle of the old man’s bus transfer… the heavy breathing of the grimy man … the rhythm and the beat… the rhythm and the beat… the rhythm and the be–

A sudden piercing screech of abrupt brakes jerks me out of my rhythmic world as all of our bodies jolt heavily toward the front of the bus and we grab at whatever we can for support. After the initial shock, as the bus pulls into the next stop, a frazzled woman behind me begins to curse angrily at the driver as she grabs at her many bags of fallen groceries in frustration. A teenage boy with a Mohawk and headphones wrapped around his head quickly jumps to her aid, helping her to carry her bags out of the bus. The frazzled woman smiles at him with gratitude touched with a hint of surprise as I turn around and note the half-full Coke bottle dangling from the fingers of the foot-rapping man.

I turn back again and look at the mohawked teenager with a surprise similar to the frazzled woman’s. I had seen him and immediately shoved him into a box of a molded stereotype: Mohawk + Piercings = Uncaring Troublemaker. By his simple action he had destroyed his box, perhaps for more people than just the frazzled lady and I. By his simple action he had bettered the day of one person in particular and perhaps he had even caused a chain reaction of little acts of kindness.

With one last enlightened glance, I stand up and head toward the front as the bus slows to a stop. Yes, each person on this bus may be in their own little world, but we share a larger world, even if it’s just the slightly larger world of the bus. And it doesn’t take very much for a connection in this larger world to be made. Just an action or a word or two could–

“Wait!” yells a voice behind me as I hop out of the bus. I glance over my shoulder and see the grimy man dashing after me with my little blue cell phone clasped high over his head in his hand.

“Wait!” he repeated again, “You left your cell phone on your seat.”

I freeze for a moment remembering my stereotypes, my thoughts, and my connections, both past and present, to people encountered.

A connection is to be found by two powerful words.

“Thank you.”

The kind man smiles, nods, and darts back into the bus with a friendly wave.

“Thank you.”

Goals! Oh dear.

Two months ago, I essentially said, screw goals, I'm gonna wander. But lately, I've come to the conclusion that goals are rather important.

For example... I wanted to take some classes to fill in some skill gaps but got rather carried away with all the freakishly cool things to learn. Like futures studies! But in the end, it had to be dropped and filed away under "cool things to learn about someday" because meandering there stretched my energy a bit too thinly across too many arenas.

But, back to goals specifically.

The problem for me is that "goals" sounds far too fixated and impermeable. It's like saying, THIS is where I WILL be in x years and I will ZOOM into TIGHT focus towards this SINGULAR ambition. My space-loving soul cringes and wriggles to find a more flexible way to roam.

So the best compromise seems to be to reframe my whole perception of goals. It doesn't have to be a singular goal. Or if it does need to be one goal, it doesn't have to get there NOW. I'm fully allowed to wittle them into focus slowly. And, most importantly, these goals can change. They can be scrapped completely in light of new discoveries. They can be modified according to how the path pans out. They can grow, live and, if need be, pass away.

Chris Guillebeau over at The Art of Non-Conformity (a blog with great posts and a splendidly artistic header) had this to say:

But most of us are not Tigers or Serenas yet. Not all of us know what we want to do; not everyone is single-minded towards the pursuit of only one goal. Some of us have more than one passion.

So that’s the idea: why not try it all? Have your cake and eat it too.

I’ve written about living a renaissance life a few times before—see here and here, for example—but this is a different approach. Try this, for example:

Higher Education: sign up for the maximum number of credits. You can drop any classes that aren’t a good fit, but maybe you just have a busy semester of learning. Why not?

Business: Have four ideas and aren’t sure which to pursue? Launch all four. Stick with the one or two that gains traction in the marketplace. Don’t worry about the others.

So, for now, my goals consist of going into 3D animation in the entertainment or education areas, being a graphic designer or publication designer, and moving to China to learn Chinese.

Are they related? Not in the slightest. At least, not as far as my mind can see right now.

It's a bit like being a double major in art and physics at the same time. Are they related? If you're looking at the path to get a physics major and looking at the path to get an art major... not in the slightest. No overlap at all. Except in my own learning, problem-solving, and creativity, where I've found plenty of overlap in the process.

Are the paths to 3D animation, graphic design and China related? Not really.

But I'm going to try the paths to all three out and see where it takes me. If one gains prominence either in my own desire or in outside traction, then I'll travel down that path.

And the most important thing to note here is that going down any one of these paths doesn't mean that the other paths are automatically excluded for the rest of my life. Aren't we constantly told that the days of one single career are over?

In the end, it's a combination of goals and wandering.

The goals help focus the wandering.

Or maybe it's that the wandering that helps give the goals life and focus.

Your thoughts?

Never Say Never

I am a packrat.

It takes years before I can bear to start getting rid of old school notes and assignments. Even then, it's more of a tame weeding than a complete purge.

Last year, after graduation and moving back to San Diego, I sat on my floor organizing the dead tree evidence of my Westmont academic life.

I came across my papers for Mechanics: my very last (and most painful) physics class covering Statics and Dynamics.

With a flourish, I threw the entire lot into the recycling bin.

"I'm NEVER going to need THAT again!" I crowed with delight.

Never say never.

Because I'm about to walk into the first class session of Dynamics at SDSU.

It's an entire semester full of all the material from the second half of Westmont's Mechanics class.

i.e. The hardest parts of the class.
i.e. The part that builds on the hard first section of the Westmont class for which I have no useful memories NOR any useful notes from which to jog my memory.

I threw those notes away because for all the uncertainty of my future, it was obvious to me that I would never set foot in mechanics related class again.

You think you know where life is going to take you?

Think again.

The Joker, The Job Search and The Wanderer

I never thought I'd find career/job search encouragement in the Joker from The Dark Knight. But I (and many others) did.

After a particularly worry-rampant night (hah. I almost typed knight), I woke to find a post from The Simple Dollar entitled The Best Career Advice: Do Stuff. It had some excellent advice and pointed to this wonderfully freeing post from the blog Hoehn's Musings. Here's a snippet:

My favorite part of The Dark Knight is when the Joker is talking to Harvey Dent in the hospital, and he says: “Do I really look like a guy with a plan? You know what I am? I’m a dog chasing cars. I wouldn’t know what to do with one if I caught it! You know, I just DO things… I’m not a schemer. I try to show the schemers how pathetic their attempts to control things really are.”

And therein lies the best career advice I could possibly dispense: just DO things. Chase after the things that interest you and make you happy. Stop acting like you have a set path, because you don’t. No one does. You shouldn’t be trying to check off the boxes of life; they aren’t real and they were created by other people, not you. There is no explicit path I’m following, and I’m not walking in anyone else’s footsteps. I’m making it up as I go.

Heck yes.

Unfortunately, as much as I resonate with both posts linked above, what I tell myself about the job search and my future and how I actually feel about it aren't always on the same page.