Cleaning house…

in the literal and metaphorical sense. I am getting rid of stuff, ineffective involvement in ‘leading to no-where’ activities, and anything else in my life that is not conclusive to progress and happiness.

It all still has to do with the topic of understanding myself as a wasted resource. I realized that my notorious ‘yes’ saying and taking on projects was largely related to the fact that I cannot but use my qualifications and experiences.

The following true family story is a metaphor for the inevitability of the ‘yes’ that escapes my mouth before my brain had time to catch up. After the WWII my granddad (a farmer) had bought a horse from some high ranking officer at the army. The horse—a well trained thoroughbred, used to parades—would end up pulling the hay-wagon and when passing music, begin marching. Of course this was well known within the local farming community and, according to my granddad, people saw to it that music (preferably marching band, military style music) was played when horse and granddad came by with the wagon. Leading to the fanciest way of: how to pull a hay-wagon you can imagine and a lot of amusement within the farming community.

Similar to the horse, I cannot but be a roll-up my sleeves and get stuck into work, research, projects, committees person. With the result that all the little things I was doing distracted me from actually getting on with the start-up of my companies. So ending up without any money AND no time to engage in serious money earning activities. I had missed—well, delayed—to cut the umbilical cord between me and academia. Not wanting to admit that there is indeed no way I will get a position in near future.

No More!

The problem in academia is; when getting paid in a research position, there is a means to a living, thus I could afford to undertake activities that enhanced my academic profile but did nothing for my bank account. Once this financial support ceases there is no way an academic life style can be sustained. (I know this alone poses a lot of questions about academia, the purpose of research et cetera et infinitum.) So I had to face the music and after a week’s worth of wallowing decided to severe my ties with academia and focus on making money.

This means I informed my ex-peers that I will now not be able to be involved in all the fun stuff anymore and am cutting-off my involvement in the small research project I kept doing because it sounded interesting. Ever since these decisions were made I feel so much better. I am free to move on.

And with a bow, I draw my hat —a bleeding heart singing sad songs of farewell, while the curtain closes. A single paperclip reflects the light—silver sparkle on an empty stage.



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