Of friends and dreams

A couple of interesting things happened yesterday that got me thinking quite a bit. One of them was an e-mail from my younger brother, discussing and sharing our aspirations (in a dream level, we are talking "be the richest man in the world" level here) among friends. I have also noticed something that popped up from my therapy before, which is the fact I am right now concerned with a lot of people I love. So when I talked to a man involved in the project I just left and he said something about our passion for an enterprise, it got me thinking quite a bit.

Anyone who knows me can tell that I usually fall in love with the stuff I am working with. I will make sacrifices and go that extra mile for it, trying to plot a grand future for it and then fighting to attain it. But the person I talked to yesterday basically stated that your relationship with work should stay professional - which, painfully, I realized I had to agree with. Yet... letting go of that love isn't easy, as anyone who ever fell and felt can say.

So I was torn yesterday, feeling like he shared a big nugget of wisdom with me that I needed badly, and yet my heart ached with the thought of never loving another enterprise again. This love is not only a fuel, but also a comforting reassurance that got me where I am right now: if not for my passion for videogames, I would never have landed the opportunities I had. But I wasn't even too worried about that. I was afraid I would never get that rush from unslept nights during crunch mode and the joy of seeing your site premiering and the first users walking into community zones for the first time. I know I got quite a kick from the live blogging we did from E3 this year.

But all of this made me remember of something I dealt with a long time ago in therapy, which is my concern for others. It just kept coming back, as I tried to shield my employees from some of the harsher aspects of my former company. It was somewhat of an herculean task bound to failure, but I felt like there was no other choice and my therapist helped me understand it was not my duty. But now I look around and see ruins, and in them some of my best friends. And I ask myself "what can I do for them?"

As I jump, I avoid the trap of feeling responsible for them, but I won't keep my hand from stretching to help each and everyone I can. This commitment is all the more special because now I don't do it out of need - I do it out of love. And I expect no recognition. I just don't want to see those people - who I see have such enormous potential - let themselves down. My therapy helped me realize I might be thinking to greatly of myself to play this savior role... but I sure as hell remember being on the other side of this equation.

So... yeah.