As dusk fell, I had the urge to do a fist pump. I’d stumbled upon another of those elusive “I can’t believe this is happening” travel moments. The light was fading, I’d gone for a walk in the crisp January air and it felt as […]
Month: January 2013
And the random winner of the mighty magnet set is KAREN WHITE! Yay, Karen! I give you permission to faint. Please email me your mailing address. The answers to the mandatory question “name the most disgusting thing currently residing in your fridge” were hilarious. If […]
This is the first week of the rest of my life.
Last Wednesday, I left my job. It wasn’t a horrible job. I didn’t have to break my back lifting rocks, watch paint dry or give a crotchety old person a sponge bath. Nothing like that.
In fact, the job paid very well. Plus, it had benefits and a company iPhone.
But in spite of all those things, I woke up most days feeling like my spirit had the flu. The circumstances of the job were such that I felt like a musician playing to an empty hall. The sense that I was completely ineffective, contributing nothing positive to the world, weighed heavily on my mind. I woke up regularly to a breakfast of stress and anxiety. And all the while I was letting my body rot away at a desk, which seems like a waste of a body that can run, jump and play outdoors.
Nonetheless – and here’s the rub – no matter how miserable I was, the money kept rolling in.
Money: a drug full of empty promises. As far as I’m concerned, if it doesn’t come with a side of deep satisfaction, steady money is the foe of creative achievement. It keeps you sedated, dulls the hunger and saps away the precious time you’d otherwise spend chasing a passion that may very well result in the right occupation for you.
For a brief moment, I dabbled in the popular mindset that security trumps all. I worried that voluntarily leaving the money was bonkers, that I’d be setting myself up for poverty and a lot of pasta dinners. But, guys, human existence is absurd. No matter how hard you try to cling to a life raft, unforeseen waves are going to come along and pummel you. In fact, the only thing that is certain is mortality, which leads to a helluva lot MORE uncertainty. I could very well die tomorrow. I don’t want to die tomorrow, but if I do I definitely don’t want to spend my last day wilting in front of a computer screen and complaining that I feel oppressed by my job.
I know that moments like this define us, which is why I am taking action instead of babbling about it. If you look at the biographies of those who truly inspire you, you’ll see that the path to greatness was impossibly crooked, and probably necessitated a few epic jumps.
And so I float away, into the land of invigorating uncertainty…