The Future is for Building

I have spent the last nearly two years of my life in a near-constant state of introspection. That’s what grad work is for, and I’ve been thankful for it. I’m not even really done yet — I still have somewhere between 5500 and 8500 words to go on my thesis. Epistemology has been my focus. Particularly, whether “religious epistemology” is even valid, and whether I think we can have religious knowledge (spoiler alert: I think we can, but not in the way we often classify “knowledge”).

I’m at the point now, though, where I understand my own view of this subject, and the writing is becoming slightly less interesting to me. Basically, I want to just be done. Don’t get me wrong, I love thinking about the Enlightenment and Kierkegaard’s response to how that time in Western history affected religious thought. It’s probably something that won’t ever go away for me because it’s an important subject that we all need to think about at some point.

Nevertheless, I find myself dreaming of what I’ll spend my time doing once the thesis is over. I don’t want to lose my drive to think, to read, to create, to do. And if reading Kierkegaard has taught me one thing, it’s that I want to live my life. To do that, I cannot simply abstract myself away from existence — I’m required to live into my own daily reality. 

When I get past graduation, I think I want to spend time making things. Working with my hands, getting out in the garden, learn a craft. I just want to do something to cultivate this world in a way that is good and simple and honors the goodness of the creation we find ourselves placed in. Maybe I’ll learn to weld, maybe I’ll learn economics, maybe I’ll landscape and garden, maybe I’ll pick up coding again. Whatever it is, I want to be able to build something of significance, and spend some time away from the intellectual problems I’ve been tackling for so long. My 20s have been spent in this constant state of introspection. Let my 30s be outward-focused.