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Take Your Time
Nov. 17th, 2020 10:59 am
There goes my journaling streak! I'm not sure why I've been quiet the past few days; maybe I didn't want to talk about what was on my mind -- or I just wasn't ready for it yet. I'm still not sure I have a whole lot on my mind, but here goes.
"Aim and Ignite", the first album from fun., popped up in my Spotify playlist again and various songs from the album have been stuck in my head since then. The whole thing is proper great, and there are snatches of lyrics that just lodge in your brain for days. I have fun just turning them over, exploring the feeling they leave me with, a literary Rorschach test that might provide me insights into my mood or still-baking philosophies. I find myself playing with them like an otter with a favorite rock, turning it over, holding it up to the light, holding it close. Like this passage from "The Gambler", which brings tears to my eyes more often than not:
It was the winter of '86, all the fields had frozen over
So we moved to Arizona to save our only son
And now he's turning to a man, though he thinks just like his mother
He believes we're all just lovers he sees hope in everyone
I think about the kind of man who would uproot his family to build a better life for his son, and watching him turn into this dude who's just in love with the world, genuinely loves people, who reflects the light of his mother's bright soul. It's such a beautiful story in four lines; it makes me want to meet this guy, but also BE this guy.
And then I think about the "though" in line three, contrasting his growing maturity against the childlike openness of his mother. Is the 'though' a subtle disapproval in his son's naivete, or does he think the idea that we're all just lovers is somehow feminine? Maybe the character in the song is proud of the man his son is becoming even though he doesn't understand the way he sees the world? There's pride, but also distance. It says a lot about the subject of the observation, but also the observer.
The song ends this way:
You come home from the world and you kiss me on the eye
You curse the dogs, you say that I should never feed them what is ours
And so we move out to the garden and look at everything we've grown
And now the kids are coming home
So I'll set the table
You can make the fire
Here, he's talking to his wife, his son's mother, and the idea she would say "you should never feed them what is ours" indicates a clearly-defined boundary that seems at odds with the "hope in everyone" she gives to her son. Who is this woman? How does the limit of this generosity of spirit reconcile within her? The song gives us snatches of a complicated man loving a complicated woman, who've grown two kids they're proud of through some really difficult times. It leaves me with this sense of weary contentment, that even though the world is harsh and people can be harsher, we've weathered this storm to build something worthwhile. And I think that's what touches me about it: it recognizes how hard living is, but also offers a vision of what we could have if we make the most of it. It's beautiful.
At work, it feels like I might be being groomed for the Tier 2 Lead position, though I also wouldn't be surprised if it ultimately went to someone else -- or stayed with my current boss. During a department meeting earlier this month, my grand-boss said something that stuck with me: "We really only promote when you're already doing the work of the position." If I want to be seen as a Lead, I basically have to be doing Lead-level work for an unspecified time period before then. On one hand, I get it, but on the other...this feels like taking advantage of someone's ambition to underpay them.
On the other hand, a position has opened up for Community Manager -- which would put me under a different manager in the same department. It's an exciting opportunity, helping students who've been given scholarships form bonds and social groups that helps them through their studies. I'll be basically managing a specific scholarship program from start to finish -- setting the calendar for milestones, upkeeping the webpage, inventing and running events for students during the first phase of the scholarship, and keeping track of the students who've been most engaged so they can move on to the next phase. I spoke with that manager yesterday, and it kind of looks like each program will have a significant crunch of like, six weeks. Then, another six weeks of the first phase, followed by the second phase, where we're a lot more hands off. The manager typically advises each Community Manager take a week or two off when they're done with a scholarship program, just to recover from the experience.
It's tempting -- more in line with the work that I feel would be quite fulfilling, but the work involved gives me pause. For either position, Support Lead or Community Manager, I would need to seriously level up time and project management skills. The latter job, though, would be for a smaller team with fewer eyes on it. I'd likely get paid more, and learn a fairly different set of skills that would look great on my resume. It'd leave my current team in a bit of a lurch, though, and I'm not sure I'd want to do that.
I'm exploring both options a bit, though I'm leaning towards moving to the other position if that works out. It would definitely make the first part of 2021 quite interesting, that's for sure.
"Aim and Ignite", the first album from fun., popped up in my Spotify playlist again and various songs from the album have been stuck in my head since then. The whole thing is proper great, and there are snatches of lyrics that just lodge in your brain for days. I have fun just turning them over, exploring the feeling they leave me with, a literary Rorschach test that might provide me insights into my mood or still-baking philosophies. I find myself playing with them like an otter with a favorite rock, turning it over, holding it up to the light, holding it close. Like this passage from "The Gambler", which brings tears to my eyes more often than not:
It was the winter of '86, all the fields had frozen over
So we moved to Arizona to save our only son
And now he's turning to a man, though he thinks just like his mother
He believes we're all just lovers he sees hope in everyone
I think about the kind of man who would uproot his family to build a better life for his son, and watching him turn into this dude who's just in love with the world, genuinely loves people, who reflects the light of his mother's bright soul. It's such a beautiful story in four lines; it makes me want to meet this guy, but also BE this guy.
And then I think about the "though" in line three, contrasting his growing maturity against the childlike openness of his mother. Is the 'though' a subtle disapproval in his son's naivete, or does he think the idea that we're all just lovers is somehow feminine? Maybe the character in the song is proud of the man his son is becoming even though he doesn't understand the way he sees the world? There's pride, but also distance. It says a lot about the subject of the observation, but also the observer.
The song ends this way:
You come home from the world and you kiss me on the eye
You curse the dogs, you say that I should never feed them what is ours
And so we move out to the garden and look at everything we've grown
And now the kids are coming home
So I'll set the table
You can make the fire
Here, he's talking to his wife, his son's mother, and the idea she would say "you should never feed them what is ours" indicates a clearly-defined boundary that seems at odds with the "hope in everyone" she gives to her son. Who is this woman? How does the limit of this generosity of spirit reconcile within her? The song gives us snatches of a complicated man loving a complicated woman, who've grown two kids they're proud of through some really difficult times. It leaves me with this sense of weary contentment, that even though the world is harsh and people can be harsher, we've weathered this storm to build something worthwhile. And I think that's what touches me about it: it recognizes how hard living is, but also offers a vision of what we could have if we make the most of it. It's beautiful.
At work, it feels like I might be being groomed for the Tier 2 Lead position, though I also wouldn't be surprised if it ultimately went to someone else -- or stayed with my current boss. During a department meeting earlier this month, my grand-boss said something that stuck with me: "We really only promote when you're already doing the work of the position." If I want to be seen as a Lead, I basically have to be doing Lead-level work for an unspecified time period before then. On one hand, I get it, but on the other...this feels like taking advantage of someone's ambition to underpay them.
On the other hand, a position has opened up for Community Manager -- which would put me under a different manager in the same department. It's an exciting opportunity, helping students who've been given scholarships form bonds and social groups that helps them through their studies. I'll be basically managing a specific scholarship program from start to finish -- setting the calendar for milestones, upkeeping the webpage, inventing and running events for students during the first phase of the scholarship, and keeping track of the students who've been most engaged so they can move on to the next phase. I spoke with that manager yesterday, and it kind of looks like each program will have a significant crunch of like, six weeks. Then, another six weeks of the first phase, followed by the second phase, where we're a lot more hands off. The manager typically advises each Community Manager take a week or two off when they're done with a scholarship program, just to recover from the experience.
It's tempting -- more in line with the work that I feel would be quite fulfilling, but the work involved gives me pause. For either position, Support Lead or Community Manager, I would need to seriously level up time and project management skills. The latter job, though, would be for a smaller team with fewer eyes on it. I'd likely get paid more, and learn a fairly different set of skills that would look great on my resume. It'd leave my current team in a bit of a lurch, though, and I'm not sure I'd want to do that.
I'm exploring both options a bit, though I'm leaning towards moving to the other position if that works out. It would definitely make the first part of 2021 quite interesting, that's for sure.
