I remember at some point having it in my Life Goals to “be a game changer” in my field. I wanted to become a notable developer, known for some fantastic tool that is included as standard in every Linux distro, or influential in some community at large.

Cue running to meetups, organising events, doing everything I could to leave my meagre mark… running Minetest servers and posting left right and centre on the forums…

This taught me an immense amount about working collaboratively, clean code, server management, and so much more that I use day to day in my work, moreso than my actual employment… this also led, inevitably, to burnout.

I liken “trying to be a gamechanger” to “wanting to be important enough for the important meetings.” You realise eventually you have but one desire: “stop pulling me into flupping meetings!” I don’t want to be the proverbial random guy in Nebraska:

We chase the elusive dream of “being famous” because that’s what we’re taught to admire – understandably, how else do we rally around ideas, causes and passions, if not to some degree some central figures?

But that’s all it really ends up being – a pipe dream. Not that it’s impossible, but I have come to recognise that the fame itself is not important, it’s taking time to do what I enjoy doing. I coined a personal mantra which I believed in then and still believe in now:

Most things worthwhile were achieved by geeks geeking.

Seek to do what is enriching first – the rest may come, but eventually is worth little in the face of personal achievement.

I am reminded of a Game Developers’ Conference video I was watching regarding team leadership and artistic direction. One screencap that both tickled me and inspired me was an exhortation to

GO OUTSIDE:

The talk is from 2017, but watching it in the midst of the world-wide lockdown, it certainly struck a chord.

Nowadays I’m trying to have more content in my feed that reminds me to live a human life, rather than to blindly chase some lofty greatness of the gods of X domain . This popped up for me recently:

The question’s context comes from a poem, which expresses in a way the existential urgency of not rushing…

“Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”

Mary Oliver – The Summer Day

Where I used to be much more glued to my screens (a near 12 hours per day), obsessing over mod code and popularity, binging shows in downtime, and putting myself through the social gatherings wringer, I am gradually unwinding the tension.

Walking in the woods, spotting fungi as the grandest treasure hunt.

Listening to podcasts whilst sewing little things of little but joyous consequence.

I long for the idle train journey away from the towns; with pen, paper, and time to meander in the mind.

Late nights in pubs playing tunes perched precariously on stools and in good company.

I still have code projects too, and want to pick up skills, even on my own time. But they’re much more for their own sake now, than some grand ambition.

I worry there is not enough time. But then, is it any worth worrying about the completion of these things, rather than simply enjoying them in the moment?

🌱