Pondering the path.
BANGOR, Maine- I’m leaving on a road trip to Western New York tomorrow morning. Today I got an oil change.
I went to one of those $22 ten minute places. I guided the car into the garage and over the pit. I stepped out and walked off to the side to wait.
I watched as the workers did their thing. They were all around 22. They laughed and joked as they buzzed around the car, opening the oil valve, checking the stick, putting a new change-in-3k-miles sticker on the inside of the windshield. One of them noticed a dude out at the stoplight in a bright orange convertible tweaking out. He called out to the rest of the crew. They looked out and shared in the laugh.
They were co-workers — unchoosen souls who unwittingly spend huge portions of their lives around each other.
I became a little jealous. I don’t have any co-workers.
I’ve been working on my own for over a decade. While I will sometimes jump on a project with others, that’s just a two to three time a year endeavor. Mostly my work is made up of me … and me alone.
Ultimately, I like things this way. I can make all the decisions, do things my way, chase any intrigue that I fancy. There is nobody to run things by, nobody to ask permission from. I just go out and do it.
However, the personal and professional value of working with other people is something that I know I’m missing. When I work on a big film project it’s generally with people who are better in some aspect of the production that I am. I can watch them and learn from them. And, I have to admit, the end product often comes out better than if I was working alone. There is also the fact that these projects are often … fun.
Going out into the middle of nowhere with a group of people overcoming obstacles and facing challenges for the attainment of a mutual goal is something integral to the psychological makeup of the human animal. It feels good to work in a pack.
It’s also nice to be with people who are in a common profession as me and who have common interests. There is really nobody in my day to day existence that I can talk shop with. This seems small, but in the long run this kind of superficial bonding really means something. It’s the glue that holds communities together.
I’m sort of isolated in my work — floating on this island that can proudly be anywhere in the world at anytime. I have no community. I don’t have co-workers.
It’s fine, but …
Maybe I seem ungrateful? However, every lifestyle is at the expense of all others. You make your choices, pick your fruits, and chew your pits. It’s not all good anywhere, and recognizing where the traveling life falls short is necessary for truly having
Many people travel, travel, travel, think they are living a dream, and then when they’re not happy they think there’s something wrong with them. Usually, there’s nothing wrong with them. The traveling life is highly imbalanced. Traveling is very natural — you could say that there’s a lingering nomadic programming left behind in our DNA — but living without a tribe trumps that with finality. It’s not normal.
But it doesn’t have to be.
Any traveler who walks down a path without constantly asking themselves if it’s leading to where they want to go probably isn’t going anywhere good to begin with. The Road is kaleidoscopic — it churns and changes and becomes very different than it was before.
And the fun of any journey is looking back and saying, “f’ck, how did I end up here?”