Zeal and enthusiasm. Sloth and Utopia

    It is as it was.
    From childhood, they taught me hard work and the desire to achieve the ideal in everything.
    Not to see someone else, but what you do.

    Sweep the yard - so that no mote. To dig up a garden - to measure the borders of a bed almost by a string. Dig out the potato - and thoroughly sort through everything, even small and green will come in handy.

    At school, this enthusiasm was expressed in drawing some kind of comic book.
    First, 100 notebook sheets — each sheet as a release of a fictional Japanese magazine that I showed friends at recess. Then 10 general notebooks, drawn up completely in about seven years.


    ****

    Over time, strangely enough, I grew up a bit and all this manic began to go into the comp.
    For hours I sorted and ruled hundreds of files with my hands, drew icons with letters in a paint for folders with music - to sort it all into these folders (the same PPC, the ideal solution is to store by genre, and inside genres - by group). This continued until I learned how to code. But zeal from this did not disappear anywhere - it resulted in writing scripts.
    After working at the factory until five in the evening, by 7.30 I arrived home, from 8.30 to 11 I stuck out in the simulator and came home at twelve - I sat at my PIV 2000 mhz 512 ram 80gb hdd for another hour and studied PC4.
    Not so straight every day, but such cases have taken place to be remembered best.

    The factory had technical documentation. The fuel system of the Su-24 and Su-34, about thirty handwritten technologies, footwear drawings, the size of which occupies an area larger than a solid desk. Enthusiasm was seething and here, I was rushing along the corridor between those. the bureau and the archive in which the drawings were kept, like mad, scribbled some pieces of paper, ran between the shops naively believing that I was moving production.

    However, not only was the work progressing incomparably slow, so the grandfathers who patronized me, such enthusiasm was not supported at all. Everyone didn’t give a damn - you work fast or slowly. The main thing is to attend.

    Enthusiasm faded away.

    He flashed a second time when I moved to the IT office as a webmaster. A kind of black man-laborer, judging by the vinaigrette of the variety of cases that I was charged with.
    Here, enthusiasm constantly stumbled over problems associated with a lack of experience, and then completely switched to personal self-education, because work gradually turned into a boring routine.

    The conclusion that I made after working there was that my enthusiasm is just an indicator of unprofessionalism. If a person knows how to work, he manages everything and does not sit at the workplace for 12 hours a day.

    Having switched to piecework wages, I was again “inspired”. Of course! I’ll make three sites a day - I’ll get three rubles. Five sites - five rubles. In fact, everything turned out to be much worse - one site took six months, and the salary tended to negative values, until finally the crisis did not draw another line in the work book.

    We’ll break through! - I told myself, burned with enthusiasm and flooded like a locomotive in freelance.
    And, I must say, only here my pressure has fully justified itself.
    Work turned out to be the best entertainment, everything else faded into the background, life began to improve rapidly ...

    At this rate, a year passed.
    Life has improved to an acceptable state, the need for big money has disappeared, philosophy has replaced the sleepless nights of coding, as I called it at first.

    ****

    I think about life a lot and always.
    I’m not particularly familiar with the philosophy of the ancients, as well as my contemporaries, but I found pleasant aspects in the philosophy of Socrates - I always felt myself the observer of this life.
    Even in freelancing, with credit on my neck and debts, I never thought about making money and money — I didn’t aspire to it — I only occasionally calculated numbers for statistics.

    Having lived 23 years in an endless craving for self-fulfillment, in any form of creativity - having retired to my apartment, living on my own, having received all that is needed - a car and a beloved girl - I suddenly decided to moderate my ardor and finally extinguish those that increased as they were built personality inquiries.

    To cultivate laziness in yourself.
    I deliberately stopped rushing about everything. “In 99% of cases, if something is not done on time, nothing will change.” I ceased to strive for material wealth - and indeed, I never really wanted to, but to feel an internal rejection of them, just to enjoy my being - is the only and real happiness in life.

    In the end, I completed my last goals that required money and began to slowly tie up with work, more immersed in the study of new technologies and graphomania at the literary industry. (although of course I didn’t take deliberate breaks in it, I only temporarily stopped writing when life was saturated over the edge, such as when renting an office for freelance)

    I stopped not only searching (which I practically didn’t do), but generally taking work from clients, referring to employment. Completed only what really should have been completed. Although this was more than enough. Asechnaya paranoia is a good name for fear of an unreleased ICQ, in which from ten to twenty unread messages and from five new clients off the sheet blink, the size of which has already somehow exceeded five hundred, then has gone astray to 250 and has now grown to five hundred again ...

    English classes - now they started late with an hour or two, or even ended with a pass. Everything was shelved.

    ****

    In simple words, the fucking bear hibernation began in my body and brain.

    And suddenly I realized that this forced laziness - has nothing to do with the philosophy of Socrates. She has nothing to do with creating a pleasant utopia around herself.
    It leads to the fact that I turn into a junk and an irresponsible asshole, which soon no one wants to deal with. Moreover, having gotten used to a disregard for worldly vanity, I will frustrate the realization of my own goals and desires, not even that. I don’t give a damn about worldly vanity - I’ll simply wallow in its problems, so that after a long period I realize the horror of the situation, look back at wasted time, feel empty and unnecessary demon, who at the dawn of life suddenly decided to plunge into meditation and, having rejected worldly sufferings and movements, ascend to heaven - to become a saint in life.

    No wonder I read 12 chairs (although I didn’t read it). There is a very good story about a rich and successful man who left everything to hell with a dog and became a hermit.
    The same goal is to become a saint in life, to reject everything.
    He lived in the forest and slept in a coffin; food was carried by monks from a nearby monastery.
    He prayed all day and ate berries. Until one day bugs were found in the coffin.
    It would seem, what a trifle! But no - bedbugs gnawed and plagued the holy bodily spirit. And he asked the monks to help - they laid herbs to infect the plague - no! They continued to bite him further.

    “Then he realized that he was mistaken. Life, like twenty-five years ago, was dark and mysterious. It was not possible to escape from worldly anxiety. It was impossible to live with the body on earth, but with the soul in heaven. ”

    I am looking for a middle ground.

    Also popular now: