Ever since I left the NOC, I've been doing work on a much smaller scale. Now, on the eve of going back to work in the Internet infrastructure, I'm thinking a lot about doing meaningful work, what it means to be doing meaningful work, and small actions in the context of a larger whole.
The kind of work I do, the managing of technical programs (change management, among others), the actual job role, only exists in medium to large sized companies. And, where I'm going, the company is large, the company is experienced, the company has gone through a few burn-in cycles. My uncles worked there, many of my friends work there, and in a lot of ways, it's kind of the family business. There is a sense of rightness of not only going back to big infrastructure, but also to a place where my own mentors came of professional age.
I can do meaningful work anywhere. Serving coffee is meaningful. Pulling weeds is meaningful. Taking care of people is meaningful. All of these things make the world better.
Those things are great, and I could have passion for them. It's not, however, what I've worked so hard on and trained for, sacrificed for. It's not what brings me the most amount of joy in the context of my life.
The Internet is how I escaped a sad life in Minnesota, how I got the strength from people and friends I never met. When the breakup mentioned in there is nothing more permanent than a temporary measure happened, it was three people who helped hold me up through lawsuit threats, the loss of my friend group. They were there for me working to find some sense of self after a terrible time taking care of a depressive parent and dealing with the other being a narcissist. They critiqued my writing, they spurred ideas, they helped me figure out apt.
I don't necessarily feel a debt, but I do feel that what I do, the improving of the Internet, maybe helps it become more solid. I'm not plugging in cables anymore - I'm helping communication in the departments that oversee large chunks of the cables, and helping push it up to decision makers and other departments. I am a cross-functional cog in a machine - and I'm good at it.
In a lot of ways, the Internet has saved my life. While I paid my dues back in the NOC, there's more good I can do, and I'm going to go do it. And I WANT to do it. I want to build systems made of light and glass, systems of people communicating well with the right information. I want to build a better infrastructure operations department that is an example to all the other dysfunctional places I've seen before.
I have the opportunity to go make the world better for people working 110 hour shifts, for teenagers dealing with depression, for engineers burnt out and dealing with the same shit day in, day out. And that - that is an amazing thing.
It's not something I can do forever. One day, I plan to retire to a place outside a medium-sized city or college town, build a chicken coop, plant some kale, and maybe some apple trees and an expansive garden. I want goats, I want a ceramics wheel, and I want a view of green hills covered with expanses of neatly ordered vines.
Right now, that's not in the cards. Major internet infrastructure providers don't co-exist with the grapes, or the chickens. The passion, the ambition to build something better from my career does not immediately coincide with this retirement plan. But one day, years from now, I hope to look out at my garden from my kitchen and think "look at what I've grown - isn't it nice? isn't it worth it?"
I think - I hope - that the answer will be yes.