In February 2020, the Covid hit and threw me into a crisis.
Only a few months back, I graduated from college. The degree I took was not something I could work online.
It also didn't help that I didn't have a job by then. I was spending my weeks doing nothing.
And helplessly so. There was an entire lockdown. And not much I can do about it.
Except, of course, I could find a different work online.
There was one thing I have consistently loved for many years. That is my love to write things.
It has been a comforting activity for me.
Even though one door seemed to be jammed (I wouldn't call it closed), another was free (I wouldn't call it open).
I started getting gigs as a technical content writer. It started working out and I had an income, more or less.
Nature has its way. Some things are doomed to happen.
I had a love affair with Python, mostly as a hobby programmer. But my new adventure as a technical content writer got me married to JavaScript.
Javascript is a horrible wife. She always makes you miserable with her unpredictable behavior.
Nevertheless, she always seems to get the job done.
But we are not here talking about my bittersweet wife.
The whole (art? science?) of programming is questionable. As it can be intimidating and overwhelming.
So why do I do it?
My favorite genre for TV shows or movies is investigation thrillers.
A well-made thriller keeps you indulged till the last minute. (Sending props to Fincher)
The puzzles, anticipation, suspense, and mystery. The dopamine spikes throughout.
Programming is often an investigation thriller. But not a well-made one.
The whole process of writing code is the process of solving puzzles.
Some puzzles are easy. Some are boring. And often you stumble across one that you can't seem to solve.
Once you do, a sudden rush hits you. That's the dopamine. It's the positive enforcement you get to keep moving.
The harder the problem, the greater the rush.
I don't survive programming hanging by the threads. I jump between the poles. Sure, the pits are frightening. But the poles are equally rewarding.
Don't I fall?
Jumping between the poles is not always wise. How could I know if I would make it?
While the poles are rewarding, the pits can be punishing. There is so much mud there.
It's a fact that you will never know if you will make it. No, not to the 100%.
But if you did fall, you get to carry the mud.
The next time you make a jump, the mud you carry softens the blow.
Only someone who fell into pits and continues can make it to the longer poles.
That is simple science.
The journey continues
The thrill of solving puzzles is not always going to be with you. Otherwise, this did be too easy. And everyone would have done it.
But every time you feel frustrated, I hope you understand it makes climbing your next pole easier.
The realization should be enough to keep the morale up.
Resilience is the undisputed factor when it comes to climbing the poles.
Hold that to your heart and you shall make it.