Why I Write

For those of you who closely follow our lives, you know that we undertook another pilgrimage to the Tian Tan Buddha this weekend, that it was awesome, and that there are indeed pictures (lots more of Carina smiling this time...plus dogs). I'll try to get those photos up at some point, but I need to take this space today for the purpose of explaining a few things about why I do what I do (and, yeah, vent).

I have known for a while of quite a few accusations having been made against me and my "work ethic" (whatever that term really means). Some people say I work too hard, others say I'm lazy and carelessly rush projects. Some people say both and yet others say neither. While I'd like to believe that those people who say neither are probably the best to judge, I like to take the views of all into account. This is, of course, a potential flaw for me just as it is for direct democracy, but that's what I get for being brought up on such values. Nevertheless, the point stands that I face occasional, sometimes damning, criticism for the way I do things. Today I want to set the record straight about why I do what I do, and why I do it the way I do it.

I work hard and I work fast. I work hard in that I will put my nose to the grindstone and do all of the research, interpretation, and writing on a project virtually without halting from beginning to end. I work fast in that, because I am driven not to stop until a significant checkpoint has been reached, things get done quickly. I am not a workaholic: I do take occasional breaks and I work with an end in mind; I do seek to have non-work fun. I am not careless: I approach my work with great cautiousness and gravity. I find that the strategy that serves me best is to get the work done and complete drafts for editing as quickly as possible to ensure that the ultimate, refined product is of as high a quality as possible. I am not rushing, I do not lack commitment to projects, and I do thoroughly study the material. I just do it all really quickly and, although occasionally I overlook things, I am frequently accurate. That's just the way my brain works. That just works for me.

It is true that, as a result of this style, I occasionally get wrapped-up in constantly trying to make and move onto bigger and better things and, consequently, denigrate my own accomplishments. Understand, however, that when I do this I am often trying to uphold a standard of my craft, for while some are content to spend their lives re-reading and re-interpreting the same texts over and over again I desire something greater. Nietzsche was my age when he took on his first major position. What have I to show for my effort? True, Nietzsche was quite brilliant, but I refuse to accept that I (or, for that matter, many of my contemporaries) lack equivalent potential. If that is hubris, so be it. I simply believe that I can do great things with my work if people would just give me the stage for it. For that matter, I suspect many people could.

This leads me to another great thinker: Confucius spent most of his life wandering about, trying to find a suitable government in which to serve and enact his philosophy. Had he been able to plant himself in the proper soil, he may have been able to use his remaining years to truly spread and develop his philosophy to its conclusion. Who knows what could have happened? Alas, it was not to be. It took Confucius over seventy years to get as far as he could go with a philosophy that some continue to regard as "incomplete". I think this story serves to illustrate just how long such a process can take, and yet how brief a time we have. In the grand scheme of things, seventy years is not very long. Can it really be held against someone, then, if that that person is simply trying to make every moment count?

The point of this post is not to suggest that I think of myself as being as influential or significant as Nietzsche or Confucius. I am not, or at least am not yet, at such a state. What I do believe, however, is that my hard, good work is deserving of respect and a sufficient venue. I believe that should apply for almost anyone, such a belief is one of the foundations of an ideal meritocracy. I know that it is highly unlikely that everyone will get what he or she deserves, but that does not keep me from hoping. So it is that I keep on studying and writing, hoping that one day my work will be seen. I dare not say, "seen for what it is," because what it is will inevitably be judged by its beholders. I simply desire that I be allowed to undertake the position for which I have trained and for which I am qualified and then make my contributions as best as possible. That is all.

Cordially,

Colin