I had to write an essay on this topic for my Peace Corps application. I’ve written lots of essays in my career. It really isn’t that hard. Find out what they want (mission statements, advertising copy, reports to congress, press releases are all good sources). Draw up an outline. Add a couple of personal touches. Check spelling and grammar. Piece of cake, even if a bit disingenuous. This is more a forthright answer.
To quote Admiral James Stockdale, a great American war hero who had the misfortune of running, at an older age and with a malfunctioning hearing aid, for vice-president with Ross Perot, “Who am I? Why am I here?”
By any calculation, I should be dead by now. Both my parents died young. Heart disease, stroke, cancer, and kidney failure run in my family like mud in a swamp. I exercise regularly, watch my diet and get regular check-ups. Nothing really serious has turned up so far, but I do understand that the genetic component is not the strong suit in my life’s hand.
I have survived 3 total car wrecks, 2 plane crashes, motor cycle and bicycle accidents, a skydiving parachute malfunction, a fall off a rock face while free climbing in the Rockies, skiing off a cliff in the fog, falling out of a tree, near drowning under a snag while rafting in rapids, and dunking into heavy seas, holding on for dear life, while securing a jib. I have been caught out in blizzards, hurricanes, tornados, floods and forest fires. As a young child I wandered off by myself more than once and somehow, by dumb luck, survived getting lost in the woods, getting trapped in the stairwell of a sky scraper, and an attempted kidnapping in a bus station. I have been shot at and gassed. I have rappelled off the side of a bridge, inches over interstate traffic when I was not too sober. I have found myself standing amid a nest of rattle snakes while hiking alone along a creek in the wilderness and confronted a rearing brown bear on a narrow trail along the side of a glacier, miles from an Alaskan ghost town. These are just highlights of a much longer list. It is clear to me that life is not an intelligence test or a reward for prudence and moderation.
I have attended too many funerals of friends who were better pilots than me, who were better drivers than me, who were smarter than me and stronger than me, more skillful than me, and, by any measure, better than me. I have made lots of bad decisions; in love, and business and life in general.
When I was a child, I would go to my grandmother and whine about some failure. She would console me by saying, “Let that be the worst thing you ever do”. It never seemed to be. Yet almost in spite of my best efforts, I am pretty happy and secure. I have a comfortable life with plenty of friends and lots of interesting and entertaining activities. Though I am not deeply religious, I have trouble accepting that this is all random. I still don’t feel that I can honestly answer Admiral Stockdale’s questions.
To quote Admiral James Stockdale, a great American war hero who had the misfortune of running, at an older age and with a malfunctioning hearing aid, for vice-president with Ross Perot, “Who am I? Why am I here?”
By any calculation, I should be dead by now. Both my parents died young. Heart disease, stroke, cancer, and kidney failure run in my family like mud in a swamp. I exercise regularly, watch my diet and get regular check-ups. Nothing really serious has turned up so far, but I do understand that the genetic component is not the strong suit in my life’s hand.
I have survived 3 total car wrecks, 2 plane crashes, motor cycle and bicycle accidents, a skydiving parachute malfunction, a fall off a rock face while free climbing in the Rockies, skiing off a cliff in the fog, falling out of a tree, near drowning under a snag while rafting in rapids, and dunking into heavy seas, holding on for dear life, while securing a jib. I have been caught out in blizzards, hurricanes, tornados, floods and forest fires. As a young child I wandered off by myself more than once and somehow, by dumb luck, survived getting lost in the woods, getting trapped in the stairwell of a sky scraper, and an attempted kidnapping in a bus station. I have been shot at and gassed. I have rappelled off the side of a bridge, inches over interstate traffic when I was not too sober. I have found myself standing amid a nest of rattle snakes while hiking alone along a creek in the wilderness and confronted a rearing brown bear on a narrow trail along the side of a glacier, miles from an Alaskan ghost town. These are just highlights of a much longer list. It is clear to me that life is not an intelligence test or a reward for prudence and moderation.
I have attended too many funerals of friends who were better pilots than me, who were better drivers than me, who were smarter than me and stronger than me, more skillful than me, and, by any measure, better than me. I have made lots of bad decisions; in love, and business and life in general.
When I was a child, I would go to my grandmother and whine about some failure. She would console me by saying, “Let that be the worst thing you ever do”. It never seemed to be. Yet almost in spite of my best efforts, I am pretty happy and secure. I have a comfortable life with plenty of friends and lots of interesting and entertaining activities. Though I am not deeply religious, I have trouble accepting that this is all random. I still don’t feel that I can honestly answer Admiral Stockdale’s questions.
So why not try the Peace Corps? In spite of my good fortune so far, I don’t think I have a lot of time to figure things out before people tell lies about me at my funeral. I a
m not really seeking a transcendental epiphany from 27 months of volunteer service, even though Mother Teresa was from Albania (and John and James Belushi are famous Albanian-Americans. It is hard to find a consistent theme here). I don’t have great expectations of finding any deep truths or insights, but I figure it is worth a try. The worst that seems likely is that I’ll work with some nice Albanians for a couple of years and learn about an interesting and historic region of the world before heading back to Idaho to tie flies and torture trout in some wild and scenic river. 
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