"May you find your worth in the waking world."
Cryptic at best and nonsensical at worst outside of it's intended context, this quote from "Bloodborne" nevertheless struck a chord with me.
In the interest of avoiding blatant spoilers or subjecting you, dear audience, to the particulars of the lore I will summarize. The line comes to the player at a pivotal point where they can choose to "forget the dream and awake under the morning sun...freed from this terrible Hunter's Dream," abandoning their quest and returning to the waking world. Inversely, the player can take the proverbial Red Pill and find out how deep the Lovecraftian rabbit hole goes.
It may be my propensity toward pareidolia, but I took this to be allegorical. How far are we willing to chase our obsessions and how ugly do things have to turn before we let them go? If we're able to at all. If you know the first thing about me it would not surprise you to know that I opted for the Red Pill.
A few years ago I made the executive decision to embark on a Faustian bargain of sorts - to focus all my efforts on academic/professional excellence, hoping to find the fulfillment that had been eluding me there, sacrificing my social and romantic prospects in the process. Not the most enlightened course of action, I'm well aware. Nevertheless, the bargain did bear fruit.
I do a lot and I do it well, I also enjoy what I do tremendously but I have noticed that this singular devotion doesn't quite have the allure it used to. I find myself more and more miring in a foul ennui, wistful of the experiences that don't fit into my draconian itinerary. I had a startling revelation this past summer - it occurred to me that I'm largely, if not almost entirely, defined by my work. Of course I'm a son, nephew, and a cousin but I'd bet that researcher, academic, and workaholic crop up a lot more on my social CV than friend or partner.
Do I leave my Ivory Tower?
It's where I excel, where I thrive, where life makes sense. Normally I'm the first to warn against the dangers of comfortable stagnation but changing a tried and proven formula now that there's a conference, symposium, and doctorate program applications around the corner seems imprudent.
There's a Red Pill on my desk with the words "Eat me" written on it and I think I'll continue to indulge it. I'm far too proud not to see my chosen course through and perhaps even find it to be the artifice of my undoing.
Far be it from me to tell you what to do, audience, but I do invite you to reassess your priorities and path as often as you can bear to. Whether you're gambling on finding something on the other side of the rabbit hole or pursuing something beautiful in the quotidian, I hope you find your worth somewhere along the way.
