La Bene Vita

Monday's Lament

Sometimes I wish I had a job with defined hours, so I could spend my leisure time doing fun things without guilt.

By now, most of my friends and readers know that I have a crippling Minecraft addiction. I play for hours and hours and hours. It takes that long to complete building projects, mine enough ores to build railroads, travel long distances to find missing resources, and explore a world that is, at least in the PC version, unending. The designers of this game are truly brilliant people. I wish I could figure out how to make practicing your instrument this addictive.

Most of the time, I have my life's priorities very well defined. But sometimes I wonder why I have the priorities I have. Am I trying to leave a mark on the world? I have my name in lights in two Columbus suburbs, I lead worship every week for the broken and imperfect, and more than thirty people have jobs and hundreds of kids are being shaped into hardworking, responsible, creative adults, thanks to the business I started, so: mission accomplished. Am I trying to carve out a living with my life's passions? I don't earn a lot of money doing what I do, and frankly, I don't use half of what I earn, so there. Am I just trying to have a little fun before I die? I do have a pretty awesome life, setting my own schedules, playing gigs, and doing whatever I want most of the time. But something in me remains unsatisfied.

I graduated from college with a woman who went on to earn her MD and PhD in biomedical engineering and now serves as a faculty member, assistant director, and assistant dean at Harvard University. We used to study together as undergrads, and I always thought she was ridiculously studious, up before dawn and to bed after dark year-round, in the study lounge pretty much constantly. But I have to admit, she obviously knew what she wanted, and she got it. I admire that.

I think many of us think we know what we want. Some of us are better at achieving those goals than others. For some, goals never make it past the "dream" stage. We "dream" of publication. We "dream" of a corner office. We "dream" of independent living, sufficient income, passionate romance, strong families, happy lives. We dream of these things, and in our minds, they never become reality, because we always want more, and we forget that we once had a lower goal. People don't step back and look at their lives thinking, "Check it out, I got the publication I always wanted!" or "I'm finally in the corner office!" Instead, they lament that the book isn't selling enough, that the office isn't on a high enough floor or in a big enough city. This is why we love fiction. We dream of closure, of satisfaction, of living the life of a protagonist who finally gets exactly what he wanted - nothing more and nothing less.

I'm a fairly driven person, but it's not because I want more material wealth. I think encouragement, acceptance, and maybe admiration are my motivators, but I'm honestly not sure, because sometimes I get annoyed with people's expectations of me, which implies that I'm tired of pleasing people.

I have an addictive personality. I get fixated on something, and I focus on it almost exclusively for months at a time. That's why I've built a successful business, written several complete novels and extensive outlines for several more, and composed dozens of original songs. That's why I've read scores and scores of literature ranging from classics to modern popular fiction. And that's why I have several full sets of enchanted diamond armor, thriving livestock and crop farms, and vast, elaborate structures that tower over a cubic digital world, all achieved in "survival" mode.

But these fixations, even the ones that might be praised by the general public (i.e., all of them except the Minecraft addiction), are all unhealthy, because I focus on them at the expense of everything else. So I think what I really seek is balance. And I think I've spent my entire life striving for it and failing.

I admit that having a regular 40-hour job was good for balance. I was able to go home and leave my work behind, where I could focus on chores, family, and leisure without guilt. But even when I had those "regular" jobs, I filled my extra time with reading, writing, gigs and part-time jobs, like the church position I've held for thirteen years, and yes, a variety of video game addictions.

So I don't know why I'm whining, except to lament the hours I wasted on that stupid game yesterday.