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“Fire the gatekeeper, jam the portcullis open, and write regardless of whether or not you’ve got anything to write”
- Oliver Burkeman, Meditations for Mortals

You join this program already in progress. Here is where I am: I’m a twenty-five year-old Sociology graduate who hated university, who wrestled his way through a host of anxious and depressive turns, and who has arrived on the other side of it all surprised and dismayed to realise that that was it. I recently encountered the saying that your body of work is only as good as the projects you finish. My body of work, for all the agony thus far, amounts to an undergraduate degree in Sociology.

I’m smart, creative, good with people, kind, single-minded, restless, demanding, and perfectionistic. I’m a self-taught programmer, good enough that in six months since university I’ve built a game development business and will earn £30,000 a year from it. I’m passionate about the natural world, and wonder about turning my skills to developing computer models of ecosystems (something I’ve dabbled with and loved). By turns I am also an artist - I used to be a (full-time) musician, I’ve written some poetry I’m really proud of, and I’m experimenting with visual art and writing. All this - if it sounds like I’m boasting - is half-gift, half-curse. I feel I could do anything. What a life! I feel I could do anything. I am frozen.

And twenty-five isn’t the youngest I could be. I am young, sure, but I’m not that young, and these first seven years of adulthood have left me frustrated. What have I really done with them? I want to move the needle, I want to dedicate myself to something, I want to bring it to fruition. And, at the same time, I cringe to think of doing so. As I am now, I command all the infinite possibilities of my imagined future. They’re all there, fully intact, for me to pleasantly ruminate on indefinitely. You are asking me to collapse them into a single, finite, flawed, and imperfect thing, which will necessarily fall absurdly short of my dreams - it’s a tall ask.

But, I know, I’m misframing the situation. Because ‘you’ are in fact the plain truth of my limitations. My time will pass, I will age, nothing can be done except within the imperfect confines of this reality, and focus can only be achieved to the exclusion of everything else. I often feel that my choice is between my dreams, and abandoning all but one of them. In fact the choice is between dreaming, and abandoning all but one of my dreams. Dreaming is fun, but I’ve done enough of it. I’d like to stop waking up with a vague sense of loss.

Here’s the outline. The two big projects are making a contribution, and finding fulfillment. Happily, they feed into one another. Making a contribution means using my abilities to do something I see as worthwhile. And today I am making the executive decision that ‘worthwhile’ means something which improves the situation of the world. That’s a choice (what about hedonism, what about enlightenment?) but, hell, if we’re going to see any progress around here we’re going to have to start making some decisions.

Finding fulfillment breaks out into a bunch of different categories: relationships, fun, growth, and self-expression - but for now I’ll focus on this last one. I have recently realised that expressing yourself, being honest, is itself a contribution to the world. Firstly, it’s no good living a half-life where you don’t feel you’ve really said what you wanted to say. You end up feeling strange, bottled-up, disenchanted. On the other hand, if I’m doing alright, I can be kinder to those around me, and more responsive to the opportunities and tragedies of the world. And if I’m being authentic about the ups and downs of life, I think I can help others calm down too. (Lord knows I’ve found massive relief reading the works of other people battling with anxiety and dread.) So, going forward, I’m going to stop underestimating the value to others of just helping myself feel alright. And already I’m relishing being honest about myself. Yes! I am plagued by ego, delusions of grandeur, and endless disappointment - and maybe you are too! So, expression is fulfilment is contribution. A useful coincidence.

With that said, I’m still stuck here with all my uncertainty about the ‘work’ category. I can already hear my inner critic spinning up: “so you’re going to contribute by expressing yourself - seems a bit insular and self-involved, doesn’t it?” Well, here’s the full story: I’m going to invest a few hours every week into researching where I can do the most valuable work. I’ll treat this project as if it was, itself, my job. So I’ll clock in, make progress, and ‘report back’ to my superior (me). My concrete first step will be reaching out to the advisors at 80,000 Hours. Working out what I can use my mind and skills for - that’s the long game. But as I go, I’ll write about the journey, and share some of the inevitable catastrophes I encounter along the way. I think this combination gives me the best chance of balancing all the things I would like to do; self-expression for me, guidance and support for others, and progress towards that big contribution, whatever it may be. Hopefully, I’ll even get to incorporate a bit of art into this adventure too.

That’s the plan, and this was that first step. Wish me luck!

🌱