A Year of Lessons Learned – some at great cost – in no particular order:
- Doubts not dealt with at inception are unlikely to go away of their own accord, they are more likely to fester and then lead to a cataclysmic event;
- It is almost never ever about you alone, people can (and probably will) get hurt by the fallout of your (in)decisions;
- The health, quality and colour of the grass across the fence are notoriously difficult to predict, one is perhaps best minded to live by the dictum ‘a bird in hand is worth two in the bush’ ;
- Mutuality – another notoriously difficult thing to predict – is everything;
- There is nothing to be gained from overthinking things;
- Time is perhaps the greatest contributor to clarity and healing;
- God does still come through, only He does have a peculiar sense of timing.
To move, to breathe, to fly, to float, To gain all while you give, To roam the roads of lands remote; To run wild, love strong, live free… And keep enough pipes rusting to fund all that
Hans Christian Anderson | For King and Country | TheRustGeek
That perfect year?
- In Work: Did finally get offered a staff position somewhere that ticked all the boxes I deeply desired at the beginning of the year (O&G operator, strong technical focus and scope to evolve my role). As a bonus, the official job title is now half a sentence 🙂
- In Women: The G ‘problem’ ended being resolved in dissolution. Sucked but we were clearly headed no where. I suspect it was me tearing things up instead of dealing with them, again. 😦
- In Faith and Worldview: Not a lot of progress, very easily my worst year faith wise.
- In Weight: 1 kg net loss, give or take, I do have the excuse of a broken foot in Q3 to blame here though 🙂
- In (Net) Worth: Stalled again, slight decrease from 2014 actually – not helped by the Naira tanking and wiping out a shed load of my Nigerian savings and investments.:(
F0r 2016? Wash, Rinse, Repeat I guess – but with a lot more fight.
…Neither saint nor Tzadik nor prophet standing at the gate; he’s just another sinner who has somewhat sharper awareness and uses slightly more precise language to describe inconceivable reality of our world. He doesn’t invent a single feeling or thought – all of them existed long before him… He’s here, at our side, buried up to his neck in mud and filth.
The Seven Good Years: A Memoir, Etgar Keret