While walking through the bustling London streets to find something to eat this lunchtime, I felt exposed - alone. I’m not quite sure what’s causing it. In the railway station I noticed a chinese girl waiting at the top of a flight of stairs for somebody - she was still there when I returned to the office, looking like I was feeling.
Most people think of the big cities - such as London or New York - as exciting, noisy, happy places. I have discovered that they can also be intimidating, lonely, and aggressive. While walking back to the office I took more notice than usual of the sea of faces. Driven, hard, harsh faces, dressed in sharp business clothes. I wondered how many of them were genuine, and how many were acting.
I know what’s at the heart of the detachment I am feeling - I have been ripped away from my new family to work on an extremely complex project that I didn’t design. The complexity is causing anxiety - I constantly worry that I will be “found out” as not being clever enough… not being able to hack it. I am reminded of the post I wrote years ago about “imagining the tree” - an analogy to describe the complexity of software development. Imagine attempting to “see” and understand the relationships between all of the twigs, branches, and leaves on a huge old oak tree - to lift it’s existence onto your shoulders in one go. Sometimes software development is like that.
While reassuring myself that I know how to tackle complexity (break it down), another part of me is beginning to ask something quite unexpected.
Do I really want to be doing this any more?
The basis for this question is probably also tied up in my new status as a father. A lot of energy now goes into running the home - entertaining the children, taking an interest in their education, being there for my other half, and of course lifting them all (metaphorically) onto my shoulders too.
I have somehow become this heavy lifting device, and work is not part of the load that is of primary importance any more. I’m not sure if it will suffer or not. I do know that I’m not entirely happy with being so far from home, and being pushed so hard mentally any more.
Lots of people are unhappy though - who am I to complain. I’m paid quite a lot for what I do, and I’m good at it. I guess being good at something doesn’t always mean you want to do it, or that you are interested in doing it any more.
At some point something changes in your head - challenges become roadblocks which you know you can pass, but you no longer look forward to crossing.