Sunday, November 7, 2010

Autobiography

Preface: An autobiography is a tough and rewarding piece to write. I recommend it, not often enough do we take stock, and survey the terrain.

I was born in Dublin, Ireland in the Rotunda Hospital on the 3rd of April 1978. A stones throw from the Liffey River, Trinity College and in the heart of the surprisingly small city. First son to a young apprentice mother and father who were already contemplating a new life in a land of opportunity they had heard so much of. I have a great respect for my father, a man who would take a young child and wife to a new country with little money, but carrying conviction of self, and the promise of a bright future in a sun burnt country.
I chose a path less traveled in my teenage years and early twenties. I began my University education in the last millennium, a long-haired visual artist studying the use of negative space and 19th century impressionist art. A year later, deferred and a little directionless I moved to Coburg, Melbourne, where I learned to cook Italian food from a man named Rocco in a small kitchen on Sydney Road. I walked through the markets bustling with the different cultures, character, and alive with languages, people and colour, and grew a love for the city.
A few years later I returned to University in Ballarat, this time to study Computing. The pallet and paints traded for a keyboard and screen. I started work at IBM and so began a new chapter of my life. As irony would have it, the visual arts building had transformed, along with my interests, to the IBM building. I couldn’t tell if a hint of turpentine still lingered in the server room or of it was purely memory.
My wife of almost a year met me when I had little in the way of cares and even less assets. Kate, a beautiful woman in all senses, instantly bought me a calendar, gently began sanding my rough edges, an ongoing project with a risk of splinters. Kate referred to me as an emotional millionaire, a flattering compliment, which also highlights a failing, as Oscar would say; “my net income never matches my gross habits.”

I completed a Bachelor of Business (eBusiness) degree, and apart from the piece of paper, I carry with me a desire to achieve something great in my life, for a time a feeling of anxiety slowly grew in the recesses of my mind, a realization that others on the common path were into their fourth year working after university and I will need to catch up if I wish to be at the forefront of an industry.
Recently, on an idle Tuesday I passed a billboard for hiking gear which stated, “Life is not a race, come back to earth – Colorado.” And there it is, in a second, a whole reshuffle of goals, do I really want; the suit, the blackberry, the squash game lunch hour, the ulcers, the power meeting, the perks, the stock options, the performance evaluations? I do love the walk to the office in the morning sun, cafĂ© latte in hand, a fresh suit adorned with pin stripes and ambition, a bold tie in a bright spring colour. Stepping over homeless people while I whistle with a spring street in my step. I don’t really do that, I am mocking the fact that I am aware and have empathy and concern, but apart from buying the Big Issue magazine, do nothing to support the underprivileged and unfortunate. I was more affected when first moving to the city, but you do become desensitized. I suppose live in Byron Bay but leave before it makes you soft and live in a flat in King Street Melbourne, but leave before it makes you hard. If you get that joke you are a bad person. If you made that joke you are worse…awkward, like being the only one to die with laughter at an inappropriate joke at a BBQ. Exposed.

I have recently started a new passion, trading on the stock market. What a rush, the excitement of gambling combined with the advantage some knowledge in economics can provide. The possibilities the freedom that trading can offer is amazing, and has dragged me in. I am reading a book on value investing to separate my flutter on the Gee-Gees from my investment strategy…a work in progress.

I would love to be living in a more amazing time, when Dr. King spoke, “I have a dream,” JFK reminded us that the fruits of victory were ashes, and how there was one small step for man. I don’t feel the same majesty and discovery in today’s time, but I suppose retrospection is a highlights reel and you only get out what you put in. These are exciting times nonetheless.
I have realized I am a dreamer, an optimist and a procrastinator. I am a Jack-of-all-trades and a master of none. I do not yet lie awake at night, like an agnostic, insomniac, dyslexic wondering if there is a dog, but now is the time for change and growth in my life. I have recently formulated an idea or image of where I will be in twenty years. I see bit of land very close to the coast, with a Spanish style house, an artist’s studio, grow my garden in the spring, surf and sangria the summer sun, and stew on the stove with the weekend paper and warm freshly baked bread in the winter. I hope to write books, travel, run my own company, make a million dollars from a dot.com, speak at least trez languages, build and destroy something beautiful by the time my days on earth are done and I shake this mortal coil.

I recently have found solace, a belief in self, in both my professional and personal life. I think this is born from the experience in a business and personal sense, growing into your skin. A throwing of the shackles of insecurity that binds you and a belief that your experience and way of seeing the world is valuable, unique and is worthy of sharing with others.
I have been fortunate enough to have some writing recently published in the MX free travel newspaper. Although a tiny milestone in the grand scheme of things, my brother graciously put it, I am the first Nolan to be published, making my heart sing and rise above the fact that today’s newspapers are tomorrows fish and chip wrappers. I will strive for a life less ordinary , I want music, dance, paint, passion wine, let it all flow. I hope that I have the courage to pursue the dreams and the ideal and give them wings.

To be continued…