I’ve been reading this book called “Shadow of the Hegemon” by Orson Scott Card. It’s a sequel to a book about a war, but the military forces are made up of children who show a natural talent for military stragey. They house the children in a Battle School, molding them into military masterminds by the age of 10, 12, or 14. The sequel isn’t any different as far as theme goes, it’s just a different setting. A global war instead of a galactic war. I love the book not because of the characters, necessarily, but because of the strategy. It’s amazing, trying to use my brain as the characters use theirs’, working everything out in advance through careful strategy and planning. Almost paranoia. It’s left me thinking, half of me wants to be like the main character in that book; deliberate with every thought & action, analytical of everything, and perfectly self-controlled, using every word to the benefit of yourself or others.
Then the other half argues from my other shoulder, asking me to be the motherly type, to wear my heart on my sleeve and welcome every stranger into my heart.
One of my columnists told me yesterday in an email, “The Harry Potter world loves you.”
I wish I felt that. Some days I can but it always fades quickly. I can’t remember that feeling because I’m not sure why they love me. I’ve always tried to be so careful about what I reveal so I’ll always be the approachable Madam Meg. I try to keep my opinions to myself and when I do let them slip, I end up either adding to them or apologizing for them depending on who I speak to. They never see my other side. My insecurities, my failings, my worries, my somewhat morbid mind at times. For goodness sake, almost no one on the net knows about my religion, something that’s supposed to be a big part of someone’s life. All because I was worried it might keep certain people from being open with me, keeping me from helping them. What do they love? They love the motherly side that has covered all things normal, balanced, emotional, and human. I’ve used my strategic side to hide itself.
Maybe I’m more like the main character than I thought. Maybe I shouldn’t make reminders for myself to be more calculating. Sure, I’ve been told I already wear my heart on my sleeve, but which heart is on which sleeve that I’m trying to show you, and which one am I hiding? Perhaps they’ve only seen one of the four chambers and they have no evidence proclaiming what they’ve been shielded from.
I think I let an awful lot of my “darker” side slip when I published that essay about my toe and all of the operations I’ve had. Hence why, if you’ve noticed, you can’t find a link to that anymore. I can’t even remember when I took down that link. Maybe when I actually went back and read what I wrote for the first time. I let my guard down when I wrote it, but when the guard came back up I couldn’t remember all that I wrote. It all came spilling out so fast it was hard to keep track of.
Maybe this is just being human – struggling constantly between two separate yet opposite humanities, trying to somehow muddle through, trying desperately to make them work together. Maybe the key is the mediator, the one in the middle, struggling to pull the two together. Maybe that’s what keeps us all from becoming schizophrenic.
Either way, I’m not sure I like it.
But now I’m torn. Which side of me do I take to school? I’m dying for some brain stimulation with strategy and analytical thinking, but I don’t really want a career in that. Art is what I love, but it’s also a passion that can actually be turned into a career. They don’t exactly have a Bachelors degree in World Leadership. I wish they did. I really miss the thrill of the chase, I need a bigger, more influential PotterWar. I want to be a mover and a shaper, not someone who gets moved or shaped. I moved and shaped a small amount of history with fan rights and copyright law, but I want some more of that. I want that BS in World Leader. But I don’t want to be a politician. I’m tired of those, the creeps and the hacks out for the fame. The ones that double-talk themselves in one interview alone, contradicting themselves left and right. I want to be the one behind the curtain, actually doing stuff. Or the one in front of the curtain, moving things into action with great drive. But, again, I don’t want to be a politician and I certainly don’t want to be in the military. I don’t have anything against the military, they’ve treated my father well, but it’s just not for me.
So where does that leave me? I want that degree in World Leadership, but I can’t find anything at all close to that that could lead to a reasonable career should I turn out to be a horrible mover and shaper. A Political Science degree won’t do me any good, it’s not the same thing. Statistics and Analysis won’t work, since that’s numbers, not militaristic and global strategy.
I think I just need to find a career where I can make myself a considerable amount of money, then I can start my own university and offer degrees that actually do some good for the world. Real Art History, not theoretical crap. A degree in the big picture, teaching students how to adequately and extraordinarily use their minds to look at the world as a whole, how each country affects the way the world spins in its own little way. And how to make sure it keeps spinning in the right direction. I wish someone would have started that school before I came up with it so I could go there. Now I’m lost and still not sure where I want to go to school, or what I want to do. Can I get a combined degree in Machiavellianism and Art History? Strategy and its affects of European Culture? It’s all so confusing. There isn’t a degree out there that fits me, and that’s all there is to it.
And that leads to other questions. If there isn’t a degree for me, what do I do for schooling? I don’t have the money to go get 6 degrees, as much as I would like to. And if there isn’t a degree for me, is there really any career that suits me? Probably not. My personality is suited to be a mover and a shaper. If I can’t do that, is there much purpose to my existance? Like it says in that book that I’m reading, I don’t think I’d ever be satisfied with life if all I have to think about are mundane, suburban things. Not that those things are bad, or not worth thinking about. They’re just not for me.
Sorry if this shocks you. Actually, scratch that, deal with it. It’s me.