Jargogled Impressions.

A very happy 2019 to readers! As we begin another year, it becomes imperative for me to both look back into the year that was and look ahead into what the coming year may look like. In another year, this cycle of review and outlook will expand into a decade-based view, seeing that we will hit the 2020s. I wonder, as we increasingly get deeper into the decades for the 21st century if it would make sense to let go of what we today call the 20s, 30s, 60s, etc. and morph it to the new century. Its another subtle way of letting go of our past through the semantics we use to wax nostalgic about it. Funny how the language or the terms we use define our thinking about the topic and funnier still how less often we typically think about this phenomena. Kind of like performativity, where language affects changes in the world.

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.”

T.S. Eliot

The year started well with a bit of cosmos play baked into the early days. With the Snowman directing our attention to a significant achievement of humanity, the bigness of the world came out in its eternal splendor pretty early on in the year. On other times, you usually slowly drift into the massive bigness of this planet, let alone this universe. But this passage into the distant space of New Horizons, literally sending us a line of sight into a new horizon, is important on many other fronts. Most prominently, it begs the question (at least to me) about our obligations to this world, and how far should we really go to expand the limits of what man can achieve. I see, hear, read, and crib about people who, with their various endeavors and activities, are rapidly expanding the scope and the breadth of what we humans are able to do. It is this sense of making a difference that matters to the world at large that attracts me and I posit attracts everyone once they move past the normative Maslowian realm.

I ended last year with a bit of travel. In Hawaii, I felt a sense of wonder at the more grounded (as opposed to outer  space) exploratory behaviors of men who were wild enough to brave the chopping oceans and patchy wooden vessels to travel to unexplored territories to quench their curiosities or to make for themselves a livelihood. On its pristine beaches, sparkling waters, seducing sunsets, and tropical rain forests, I couldn’t help but wonder about the genesis of life itself. My first peek into the world down under, through the tiny glasses for snorkelling, led me to sneaky peek at the green sea turtles and other sundry fishes that frolicked the Hawaiian shores and it was blue as hell. It beckons to me now, those vistas of space and matter that is as alien to me today as the space is. Its a matter of perspective then as to what is more interesting for both hold within them a lifetime of deciphering.

2018 turned out to be another year of moving places too much to the chagrin of the missus. From Philadelphia to Seattle, it was akin to crossing continents, minus the added baggage of securing a new visa again of course. Philadelphia, for us, turned out to be a solid 2 years and the city had a lot to offer which was surprising but welcome. Moving cities, it turns out, can quickly quite manageable if you do it fairly often. There are so many things you need to take care of when you do move, but if you keep doing it, these steps become a matter of practice and habit. Although, it would be great to call a place home for a fair while.

“Hope

Smiles from the threshold of the year to come,

Whispering ‘it will be happier’…”

Tennyson

On Twitter, a scene from Friends trended where Ross, usually bereft of self-consciousness gripes about the new year. The social media lighted up on the shades of truth it rung with the masses on how our best of efforts towards making something good out of a fresh beginning turns out, in most cases, to be an exercise in vain. And yet, like Sisyphus, we march on every passing year. Until of course, when the end seems nearer to us than our very beginning. Traditionally referred to as the middle-age.

I have often tried to marry my predilections with age and the time tested paths that us “premium mediocre” folks take. Ross’s desire to try something new every day was a product of his age – at 30, it made sense. As we age though, the curve of the U-bend beckons, and we reconcile with our lot in life. So happiness, in a sense turns out not to be a factor of your achievements, but driven by your sense of contentment with the world and your place in it at large. Nothing new there you say, being content in every age would impart joy. I beg to disagree. When we are young, being content seems like cheating the world. Being content seems like relinquishing our rights, accepting inertia and laziness, and adjudicating ourselves as an IYI. So contentment does not really work here. There’s a parallel here with wealth too. Being content when you are rich and don’t care about where you live is different from being content when you haven’t yet figured out how to be wealthy. I am increasingly being wary of taking life lessons from successful people because their drivers are inherently different from mine. In these cases, Taleb’s application of the Lindy effect comes in handy. Lessons from Dostoeysky, Aristotle, Seneca, Marcus Aurelius, Bible, Jain Shastras, etc. may be more useful in many instances. My one goal in 2019 is to go further back in time in my readings and learn from books that have stood the test of time and survived. The longer these ideas survived, the more their relation to the truth IMO.

“Be at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let every new year find you a better man.”

Benjamin Franklin