Reflections on the Life of a DBA

Nota Bene: Not written by AI. I have written this from the heart…for those who are willing to listen. – Marlon

I was in Sequoia National Forest with my family over the holiday weekend (our Independence Day here in the US). Hiking in national forests within driving distance of home has been one of our ways of unplugging whenever we get a chance. I had some time to reflect on my career.

I saw how the forest adapts to changes. I saw small trees budding from seeds scattered all over the ground. These will soon become part of the whole forest ecosystem. But forest fire brings the painful changes.

Charred snags and charred tree wounds bear witness to the pain brought about by the blaze. What is most interesting to me is that no matter how many times the flame engulfs the forest , it always finds the reason to sprout a new life. There is this process called Phoenix Regeneration where the fallen or burned trees go through a transformation.

Sometimes you wonder how human life intertwines with nature. There is that life-death cycle…the comfort, the pain…they both are part of that cycle.

Like the forest, human is more than capable of surviving any bad events. That incredible resilience is part of our human nature. Just like the trees, it is within our nature to effect a Phoenix Regeneration (although that is metaphorical when it comes to us humans).

Same goes to our career. It goes through that similar cycle. The ups and downs. Jobs come and go. The pain and the comfort is part of that cycle.

And this is what brought me here to these reflections.

The DBA life is fraught with pain. Those battles that we endure are mostly invisible to many. Those countless sleepness nights are a testament to our dedication. Whether that is a server that went down because of a bad patch or a server that refused to get back online after a configuration change, we are always there to save the day (or night). And it doesn’t matter if we’re in the middle of a special celebration of a loved one, or a well-deserved rest day. We rise to the occassion.

And I couldn’t forget that cold January evening. I was at a black-tie party. My phone was exploding with Splunk On-Call alerts and Teams messages. An important SQL Server went down. I never leave the house without my work laptop. I can probably forget my wallet at home, but never my laptop.

Pulling my laptop onto the dining table would have been awkward or outright disrespectful at best. The only place for me then was that busy kitchen, teeming with relentless chaos. Imagine that guy in black suit with his laptop. I found a corner where I dealt with the issue with poise but with a sense of urgency. The mission was clear. I was to deliver without reservation or excuses.

The pain is part of it. The weekends. The holidays. Or, worse, the Birthdays. You sacrifice them all for the love of fixing things that are broken. And this was something I chose. Nothing was forced on me. I chose this not only as a job, but more so as a calling. No one forced me to be here. I fulfill this duty with the understanding that it is a noble mission.

The cycle of pain and comfort is deeply ingrained in the life of a DBA. You are called to it. You choose that life, and it chooses you. Comfort comes in the form of appreciation. A simple “Marlon, thanks. That helped.” goes a long way.

I find joy in helping people understand why things happen and how to address them, so the next time they can do it themselves. I am one who never gatekeeps what they know. I owe what I know to those whom I follow. I have no right to withhold or not share the knowledge that I have learned from other people. “Thank you, Marlon, for sharing that with me” is more important to me than “Thanks, Marlon, for fixing that for me“.

Blood. Sweat. And Tears. Not a complaint. Not an excuse. But an act of pure love. And I never regretted a single thing.

Would I do it again? I will do it again. And over again. And again. Yes, I will do it over and over again.

Here I am charred, wounded. But I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Over. Again. Despite the pain. Not a doubt.

It’s all worth it. And I find comfort in the fact that deep in my heart I know…

I GAVE IT MY ALL.