"The Let's Get Moving Already Generation"

Where are you and where are you going?

Odds are you're on your ass right now, skimming through facebook and my status update caught your eye. Or you're facebook stalking me...and in that case, please introduce yourself. I'd love to know who finds my constant musings that captivating.

An editorial in The New York Times (praised be the Grey Lady's sacred word) called us all out for what we're doing right now. On facebook, exploring the great information super highway instead of Route 66 (sorry for the irresistible cliche). For reference, http://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/11/opinion/sunday/the-go-nowhere-generation.html.

It brings up some great points, where's our migration for jobs in growth sectors? Are most of us a little too risk averse? As opposed to the great bohemian and pre-bohmeian urges to self-discovery through ragtag exploration, when we do make it abroad, we tend to get ushered into buses or well trodden routes with a beer in hand and house music in our ears. Sure, we get some volunteer work in and maybe carve out a niche life for a bit, but how many sincerely struggle to carve out that thrilling life made on wages from being a line cook?

To my friends out there who are putting their stability on the line for that noble pursuit of discovery, I commend you. To my friends who are tip-toeing the line with a safety net cast by a munificent other, I don't blame you. And to those of my friends who earned a safety net through commitment and hard work that I personally failed to do, I admire you.

But the reality, Self-Sufficient, Self-Discovery seems to be becoming a rarity, trapped between fear and an abundance of support.

So what's left for us to do? Those of us sleeping in our childhood beds or trapped in a cubicle punching in numbers, constantly telling ourselves fulfillment is another spreadsheet or promotion away. Or what about those of us doing sincerely great and growing work, but burdened with the stiffing but warm blanket of support from our families. Or perhaps most heart-breaking, those who have never even had the illusion of control over their life?

The editorial talks about the prevalence of the word "random" in today's lexicon. The shattering forces during our adolescence and the crash that came about when we emerged explains a lot about why the world seems "random". Whereas the sins of Vietnam and World War II before it laid on the over thinking of normally smart men and the hatred of the evil, our generation only has fecklessness, greed, and simple stupidity to fight.

Real human flaws have caused the cloud we've grown up under as opposed to the mythic flaws that lined the clouds in years before.

What recourse do we have against simple, random human nature?

What travel can expose us to discover the solution to man's always present flaws. No hippy-dippy, drug filled communes or noble wars against evil could inspire equivalent self-discovery.

So if the flaws happen through basic human nature, let's stop thinking about how to combat it and just do it.

Let's just get moving already.

Our quality is that we are doers. The over-achieving adolescence has shown us that the limits really are just what we allow.

Sure, all we will do is surf the internet and not see the world if that's all we are willing to do. And then we muse on how things crumble and deteriorate over twitter. We can't afford to be spectators always with a witty aside (or a witty aside provided by @andyborowitz).

The mumbo-jumbo decentralization of media and all that jazz is just another way of saying just take whatever tools are around you and do something.

I'm not sure if this circular nonsense is actually sense, so I'll leave you with a stereotypical Michael Fox cliche anecdote.

There's a small pond not too far from my house. Since I live on my town's border, it's in the next town over, so pretty much another universe. At some point, on a whim, my family discovered a cut away street that ran by the pond which shaved a minute or two off some of our travel towards the other town.

Due to the area's residential isolation, it's become my preferred route to job (not run, jog).

On this absurdly nice day (I can't say beautiful when it's unseasonably warm), I went for a jog. My life has way too much uncertainty right now, with several possible real opportunities to do what I am passionate about up in the air, and all set to fall to Earth this week or next.

Unemployment sucks. It really sucks when you have a hard-earned academic resume, "worldly" experience, and a strong network. Each week without a call back or a job devalues your perception of your own accomplishments that much more. When is it your time?

So I left for the jog with these thoughts. Since I started the route (done habitually in starts and spurts), I can never jog the whole thing. Even when I feel like I am in better shape, there's the parts I always slow down at.

On the uphill return, a slow down hit. So when I slowed down, I simply enjoyed the sight of the pond. I also removed the battery from my phone/daemon.

Completely undistracted from anything, I just enjoyed the pond. Less than a quarter of a mile from my house, it still feels like a foreign terrain, just out of the boundaries of my childhood.

But I kept walking and enjoyed the sight. No distractions from anything else, not feeling burdened by a need to keep jogging. No burdens at all.

If we can capture the sensation of that moment, reminding ourselves that we need to keep moving, we can enjoy the beauty on the way, but not let the outside slow down our pursuit down our paths, we might be ok.

Maybe we'll only go as far as the pond across the town line from me. And then of course, we'll come back. But at least we went somewhere?

Barriers (of kinds other than language...)

Last summer, in the throes of immediate post-grad unemployment, I set the lofty task aside for myself to write an exhaustive diary entry of every day of my life. Record my feelings from wake-up to bedtime, moments significant and inconsequential. Somehow this timeline, personal and intimate, fully exhaustive of emotions, would provide a detailed account for any and all views of my life develop from here on out.

Needless to say, I didn't reach this goal. Sure enough, points of extreme frustration or bliss have driven me to write thorough accounts of some of life's mini adventures, but I haven't been able to record anything approaching my "mock memoirs"

Maybe its better to not reach this Borgesian level of literary self-discovery and introspection through writing. Nonetheless, I failed to write regularly. Writing is one of my deepest passions and greatest assets.

The ability to craft a coherent voice is a gift that should never go to waste.

Now, in my unique limbo of post-grad/political acolyte life, maybe my voice has some value. It's probably going to only be my dad, brother, and mom reading this. Maybe a few other scattered friends, followers, and "fans". But of course, more than anything this is to keep my voice loud and practiced.

So I apologize in advance if my life is far from interesting. I'll do my best to shout somewhat melodiously into the ether. And if no one actually reads this, maybe it will drive me to at least carry through on my personal feat of magical realism.

oh, and as for the title, the barrier is laziness of course. and maybe a bit of a need for discretion.