A few weeks ago, I watched Jiro Dreams of Sushi. A number of friends had recommended it, and I finally bit.
Now that I've given it some time to digest, I feel the same way I did when it ended - having a strong urge to write but not knowing where to begin; wanting to draw together the parallels of a documentary about an 85 year-old Japanese sushi chef and my life, but again - not knowing where to begin.
So, I did what most bloggers would do. I read what other people were writing, hoping to find an angle to kickstart this thing from. Reviewers, bloggers, and anonymous Wikipedia editors - all fair game. Unfortunately, I screwed up my thought process in the process. I tainted any good ideas that I may have possibly come up with, because there was a lot of material out there, and I read it all.
But who is Jiro and why is he dreaming of sushi? If you haven't seen it - it's a documentary. That, I am sure of. It's not even so much about sushi, though. It's not even a pursuit of happiness. It's a pursuit of perfection. A man that has simply focused his entire life on one thing - making good sushi.
This quote from Jiro essentially sums it up:
Once you decide on your occupation you must immerse yourself in your work. You have to fall in love with your work. Never complain about your job. You must dedicate your life to mastering your skill.
That's the secret of success.
Strong words. Almost demanding.
Really, though - what is success? Mastering a skill and dedicating a lifetime to it, according to Jiro.
And falling in love with your job? That's a tough one to swallow. Definitely tougher than his O-Toro.
When I finished school, I got a job. It wasn't the job I wanted, but it was a job nonetheless. Website and graphic design. Programming. Geek stuff. I can't say anything negative about my first "big boy" job, because it supported me for three years. Sure, it had its ups and downs. But, I met so many great people. Older people. People with more experience. People who helped me learn.
Developing a career was hard. Getting hired, noticed, promoted - all hard. I caught a few breaks, but I also had my fair share of stumbles and screw-ups. My job required work that was "good enough". It wasn't worth doubling our time just to eek out another 5% in quality.
I didn't see that. I couldn't understand it. I wanted to dedicate more time and create something better, but it wasn't my call. I was green; more outspoken with raw, unpolished ideas.
But time went by, and I learned to listen. When I spoke in meetings, it seemed to mean more. It carried more weight. People left the company, and I took advantage by jumping in their void.
Before long, I had enough experience and an opportunity to get a better job, so I took it. And I learned more. But after a couple years, I left. I struggled inside. I was burnt out at 27, not knowing what I wanted to do. All the hard work, time, sacrifice - it didn't bring me a feeling of success and fulfillment. I knew if I continued down the same path, I would live a life of professional misery. I had no other outlet, and I needed to find one.
I got into cycling and became more grounded. I was more appreciative and focused on simpler things. I started to make a lot of new friends who had the same simple minds. I felt I was a better person. I felt successful. I felt good about sleeping outside on the ground.
But, I didn't have a job.
So, like Jiro's son, I went into the family business.
And it truly has been a great opportunity. I get to see my two brothers every day and make decisions that affect the livelihood of many wonderful people. It's hard work. It can be stressful, and there are times I complain. There are times I feel great, but there are also nights when I go home and tell Ry I want to throw my hands up, move to Oregon and open a coffee shop.
My job isn't perfect. I love my job and I strive for what most people view as success, but it's not perfect, and I'm not going to be perfect at it. No job is. Not even Jiro's.
That's why at 85 years-old, he's still in the pursuit of perfection. It's his direction, but not his destination - he'll never achieve it. He is trying to achieve success and perfection in his own mind, by his own rules, and I am content to measure success by my own rules.
If I never got into cycling, I'd still be that web designer walking down Baum Boulevard, listening to my coworkers talk about stuff like the optimization of database scripts and hidden Qdoba menu items. More striking is the plethora of friends I wouldn't have met. Amazing to think about.
A few weeks ago, I met some friends at the cabin. It was the night before our ride to Southern Tier. My friend Joe handed me this:
There aren't many words to describe how I felt. Any words that I could muster in my moment of disbelief, I shared with him.
Now sitting on a bookshelf in my living room, it doesn't remind me of the path I took from DC to Pittsburgh, but instead the path I took in life to make such a great friend.
Not a dream. Real. My own success.
Video: http://instagram.com/p/ebFWL9SYum/
Or: http://distilleryvesper6-2.ak.instagram.com/e9d9bee620c811e3a8e322000a9f13d9_101.mp4
