Unless you lose…

Unless you lose yourself to this,
It will ever elude you… Oh,
there are too many who are great
of mind and small
of heart,
and the breadth of their world
is the gamut of their village
or less – their cul-de-sac
But no judgment.
Even the least of us can turn
manure into fertile soil into plump tomatoes…
the smallest, least alluring dregs and details add up,
more often than not,
to the most

The summer my grandfather fell off the roof and broke both his wrists,
was the first time I’d ever seen him have to ask
for help.
But even in two casts from wrist to elbow — and beyond —
his mind worked
to keep him independent.
He invented holding sticks he could use as hands
in most every situation.
His pride
remained intact. He didn’t have to wait for both tibias
and fibulas to heal.

Many who pass this way are intent on mistaking
a soft underbelly for failing,
convinced that leathery,
horn-hard shells
are the only fitting emblems of the tough.

Not so.

2003 – 2022

What is… and what will be

Because once I lock onto a question and can’t seem to let go till I get an answer that makes me feel a little less like an idiot than before… the question of why I actually threw my biggest eggs in the technology basket keeps coming up. And I think I know.

And I think that poetry actually had a lot to do with it.

For me, poetry is very much about what is. It’s about processing the stuff that’s right in front of me, or that’s hidden from sight that (to me) needs to be teased out into the open.

Conversely, technology for me is all about what will be. It’s about building out ideas for things that never really existed in that exact form before. Someone may have made something similar, but nobody can code something exactly like you can.

It’s a heady thing, to be able to create something brand spankin’ new, when all the world around you seems intractably unjust and illogical. To have a very binary thought process that is all about yes/no, on/off, instead of laced with vagueries and subject to interpretation… it’s quite the relief.

I guess I just needed a break from the rumination that’s part and parcel of poetry.

The place where I went wrong with the tech, was thinking I’d be building something that other people would find every bit as incredibly fascinating and useful as I did. I assumed there’d be eager adoption of my coding creations, and that others would see the merit in them. Because the things I design and build are thoroughly thought-out, and they’re based on decades of industrial-strength technical experience. So, why wouldn’t everyone just flock to the things I’ve built.

Why they don’t, is a whole other discussion, but I’ve come to realize that – even if they did – I’m not sure I’m the sort of person who wants to continuously promote and support my creations. I sorta kinda like to bring them into being and then let them go. I mean, really let them go. Completely forget about them, as I move on to my next fascination. And that, my friends, isn’t even a good practice for open source software.

So, as it turns out, the way I build tech is very similar to how I write poetry. Come up with an idea, write it, build it out, be happy with it, and let it go. And because tech needs more than that, if I’m putting it out to other people, it makes no sense for me to put every single sizeable egg in a tech basket. Of course, if I only use what I build myself, I can do what I please without answering to anyone, but that’s antithetical to the high tech innovation mission, which needs adoption.

So, meh. Whatever. I’m tired of thinking about this. I have my answer about why tech appeals to me so much, and I have an answer about why I’m supremely ill-suited to driving innovation with my technical creations. I can let it go, now, and just go about my business.

Quit clinging to the wrong ambition, and settle back into words.

Because those matter to me more than any line of code ever did.