What's the Point?

What's the point? I don't mean to wax philosophical here, but really, what's the point? You work hard, follow the rules, and try to think through all the possibilities; yet you still fail. For whatever reason. In my circumstance, I've always tried to work hard and work smart. But no matter how hard I have tried, nothing seems to work. Now I'm talking about scientific research of course. Basic science research. You educate yourself for over 10 years, put in time and sweat into a lab project for 3-5 years - then nothing substantial. The clock is ticking behind you. If you don't produce this many papers in this amount of time then say good-bye to your chances for a assistant professor. Does this mean I'm just not good enough? Does this mean I'm not thinking clearly enough about what I'm doing? I watch my friends, old acquaintances pursue the same goals and I see them succeed at every step with apparent ease. They have busier lives, more responsibilities, and they simply succeed. I can only say that I'm envious of that. It's literally impossible for me to compete when whatever project I take on falls flat on it's face. I'd like to say that it's bad luck. But that's a cop out. But you can never know what will work if you don't put the time into it. Science seems like such a gamble sometimes.

I read once that you should know your limits - I think I have reached that point. I'm too old now, near 37 with very few publications. It's about time I started looking for something else. The sense of failing and shame of having come so far but not reaching my goal is too painful to even describe. So what's the point in all this. My childhood was good with loving parents, a fine education, excellent teachers, and good friends through the years. I failed them all. If I could shrink away from this world and live as a hermit, I would. Running away from my chosen career, my family, and my friends seems a tempting avenue. Launder my origins, wake up a new person in some obscure place in the world and eke out a simple life. I suppose that was Thoreau's vision as well.

What's the point? In all honesty, I chose this career path as a way to satisfy some insecurity. To be somebody. To do something worthwhile and be lauded for it. We all, in this world, wish to be someone special. Look at all those people who rush to Hollywood to "make it big." I too wished to "make it big." I wanted to do something substantial. I never thought I'd be Einstein or Linus Pauling or Stephen Hawking. But I wanted to have my name ascribed to some important discovery or some important device. So many dreams dashed by the wave of harsh realism that you can't control everything. Seriously, I've always believed in self determination, never in fate. Yet it seems on every level fate wins out. There were some bad decisions in my life. And there were times I could have done more. But there are only so many hours in the day, and time passes by so fast now.

If no matter how hard you work, you end up with nothing then really what's the point? I can't talk to my colleagues, my mentors, or even my friends. I feel as though I am not at their level. That I am not worth their time. I can only trudge on with this dead end project and see if I can maintain some semblance of peace of mind. I was too prideful when I was young. Too envious, too competitive, too rash, and too insecure in my own self. I regret that now. Humility is truly a virtue. I hear the church bell outside.... I suspect I will try to meet the day, yet I fear futility will have its way.