Small towns

I grew up in a small town. Not so small that everyone knew everyone's name, but small enough that if you said someone's surname to a few people then you could find someone who knew the person on your mind. Your dad may know your friend's dad. You might be in the same class as your second cousin in school.

The community is interconnected. Fine threads of shared culture wove us together. Appreciation for the local park, complaints about the council, yearning for new investment in public infrastructure, and annual celebrations. A beautiful town. A place where, despite not being born there, is what I refer to as my hometown.

Many of my friends told me that they could see themselves living there for their whole lives. "A day out of town was a day wasted" was a common, albeit somewhat controversial, expression. For those who would utter those words, there was a deep connection to everything in the town; the people, the culture, the scenery. Others would hear those words and wonder why you would not instead want to explore. To venture out of town. To discover the world. I was one of those people that wanted to explore.

I carry with me a passionate sense of curiosity about the world around me. Peruse my bucket list and you will see the names of countries across the globe to which I want to travel. I was ambitious. When I was growing up, I saw success as being somewhere else; that location mattered. I knew few programmers around, but I was aware of the cities around the world where there were many programmers. To go there was my dream. I decided at the age of 15-16 -- perhaps earlier -- that I wanted to visit San Francisco.

I like to think of my sense of ambition as a spark. I have an idea and get excited about it, just as a child is given a piece of paper to colour in and does so with excitement. A blank page with infinite possibilities. Ambition and my self are intertwined.

Earlier this year, I traveled to San Francisco, en route to meet colleagues. When I first saw the Golden Gate Bridge from the airplane, I felt like I was in a dream. A landmark that had existed to me only on a screen -- and in my mind -- was in front of me. I was elated. I had made it, per se. I had achieved a dream that I held close for years. I walked around the city seeing names that had existed to me only on a computer. Adobe. Salesforce. Mozilla. Google. I was here.

While the grandeur of the city was significant to me, I have since reflected on the relative quietness of my hometown and the spirit of connection some of my friends had. That sense of connection that some of my friends felt early on? I understand, viscerally, what they meant. I could walk everywhere I needed to go at home. There were a few lovely cafes to which I could go. As much as I did not think it was the case, I had connected with the soul of the town. The soul of Scotland.

I am ambitious. I also enjoy the quiet of the small town. Both of these statements hold true, irrspective of the extent to which I previously thought that the heart of ambition was the city. Indeed, the heart of ambition is in the spark that makes me curious about the world. My spark is bright here. Could it be brighter elsewhere? Perhaps, but what matters more is my state of mind. My passion for creating is with me no matter where I am. It has taken me years to realise that. I can be ambitious and excited and collaborate wherever I am (with a little help from the World Wide Web).