by James Wallace Harris, 7/17/25
I organize my thoughts by writing these essays. For this essay, I define mojo as the ability to accomplish a hard task. Mojo is often associated with magic or a magical ability, and I consider the knowledge to achieve a flow state and work with razor focus as an almost mystical ability. After being retired for twelve years, I feel I’ve lost that mojo.
A prime example of this kind of mojo is when I landed the Records Systems Analyst job in 1987. I had taken computer programming courses as far back as 1971. In 1977, I got a job working with computers, using and teaching others to use microcomputers. However, programming wasn’t part of my job description.
In 1987, I was hired by a college of education to set up a database system to track student teachers. I was given an office. On my desk was an unopened box of Novell 2.11 with a 5-user license, five Ethernet cards with coax connectors, and an unopened box of dBase III. I had no experience with any of those products. Within weeks, I had a multi-user system collecting data, and I was augmenting this local information from the data downloaded from the university’s mainframe student database system.
This was my first salaried job. I knew it was an opportunity I couldn’t blow. My mind stuck to the task. I can recall other times when school, or work, or personal desire made me jump in and focus on a project until it was finished. I will admit that unless I had some kind of pressure to succeed, I seldom finished a task. I usually succumb to laziness.
Being retired has removed all pressure to accomplish anything. Before I retired, I planned to return to school and get an M.S. in computer science. I didn’t do that. I also planned to write science fiction. I didn’t do that either. I planned to do a lot of things, and I didn’t do any of them.
I’ve lost my mojo to focus on a task. That doesn’t mean I’ve given up. I’m just trying to find my lost mojo, and this essay is my way of thinking about how I could do that.
The obvious solution would be to go back to work or school. Those always gave me a purpose. However, even before I retired, when my university decided to standardize on one language and framework, I couldn’t make myself learn it. I don’t know if it was because I was an old dog incapable of learning a new trick, or because I knew I’d be off my leash soon and retired.
Recently, I purchased a 2-bay Ugreen NAS and two 12TB drives to set up a Jellyfin server. I planned to rip all my TV shows, movies, and albums and create a digital library. I figured spending $800 would put pressure on me to learn the system. It didn’t. Using Hulu or Spotify is just too easy and much cheaper.
I realize now I need a different kind of pressure to get my mojo working. I have too many fun things I can do that take no effort. Fear of losing my job or failing a class used to get my mojo working. Knowing this makes me wonder what creative efforts I’ve done just for fun.
I suppose the most productive creative work I’ve done without the push of a boss or teacher is blogging. I’ve had several blogs over the last twenty years, and I’ve written more than 2,000 essays.
I’ve always wanted to write science fiction, but I’ve only written science fiction when taking a class, either in high school, undergraduate and graduate courses, and at Clarion West in 2002. Evidently, fiction takes focus I don’t have, but I can write short essays.
I’ve also dreamed of writing computer programs as a hobby, but I’ve never written any programs, other than for work or school, except for developing a few simple websites. I did teach myself PHP and MySQL for one site. Most of my sites were created from simple HTML and CSS. The most successful site I’ve worked on for fun is CSFquery. My friend Mike did all of the programming for that site. All I did was data entry. Mike is my poster boy for being able to focus.
A long time ago, I published fanzines with my friend Greg. And for several years in the 1970s, I published APAzines. However, those really were precursors to blogging. I can easily write short essays. But do not write complex, well-researched essays. I have a knack for nattering, but not journalism or nonfiction.
For the moment, those are the creative efforts I made without outside incentives. This inadvertently tells me something else. I’ve had rather limited creative ambitions in the first place. I vaguely want to write computer programs, and I’ve always desired to write science fiction. Maybe it’s not the mojo that’s missing, but a specific goal?
There is no task in my life that I want to automate with programming. And even though I daydream about science fiction stories I want to write, earning a few thousand bucks just isn’t enough of an incentive. And I know I could never write anything better than the best stories from a Mack Reynolds or Robert F. Young.
I have no reason to write computer programs, but I have dreamed of writing a program that could create art like this:
And that might be another reason why I don’t have the mojo. I have no idea how something like this is created, and it might take me years of highly focused research and learning to acquire that knowledge. Do I unconsciously know I’ll never succeed even if I could focus on the task?
It’s like the Serenity Prayer: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.” That deep in my subconscious, I know the difference between what I can and cannot do. Or is that my laziness rationalizing?
You might think this essay is crying in my beer, but it’s not. I’ve never been to a psychotherapist, but writing this essay has given me psychological insight. I started out thinking I was missing something, my mojo. But what I’m really missing is a purpose to solve.
The other day, I watched a YouTube video that stated various pitfalls to retirement. The first one given was a lack of purpose. I was well-prepared for retirement in terms of planning for my basic needs. But I never considered that having a purpose is a basic need.
JWH
Auxiliary Memory 