Have you ever wanted to cover your current life with plastic and leave for a while? Yeah. Me too. In fact, I plan to do just that.
As I write this, I am in the midst of a period of great adjustment. My love life, work life, and home life have all been in unbelievable chaos for three months. While they aren’t settled yet, I am finding the way to manage the transitions is to put my current life on pause. I’m leaving in two days for my hometown of Terre Haute, Indiana, where I plan to work remotely, reflect on my current situation and attempt to determine my next steps.
You see, my six-year relationship ended a few months ago–just before the wedding. This necessitated putting our shared year-old condo on the market. Both of these events happened at the same time that my company was acquired and I adopted the most adorable tiny maltipoo puppy (the kind who fits on a plane). Meaning basically, everything in my well-planned life had changed in a very* short period of time.
*Editor’s note: As an editor, I ALWAYS remove unnecessary adjectives like “very.” I’m stetting myself here because I believe that many changes happening within the same time requires emphasis on just how freaking much was happening in just how freaking short a time span.
Just one year before my life got turned upside down, I had donated almost all of my belongings in an attempt to consolidate with my fiance and fit into our downsized condo. I got rid of my kitchen stuff, TVs and even my entire bedroom set.
I realized that since I recently paid off my car and donated my stuff, I was traveling light. In fact, as I was grappling with the uncertainty of my life, the following three things struck me:
1. My job was remote.
2. My only debt was the condo that was on the market.
3. My belongings could fit in a car.
The sum of these three things added up to something far greater: I was free, unfettered, not tied down by material goods. I could work from anywhere. I was unattached romantically. I had unintentionally whittled away most my physical belongings, and I now had an up-for-everything fluffy travel buddy who provided companionship, laughs and stability.
It’s simultaneously scary and breathtakingly exciting to realize you can literally do anything you want with your life. That suddenly, the life you have meticulously planned and saved and worked for is no longer valid, the obstacles have been demolished, and the world is your oyster.
As an editor, I often put restraints on my authors’ assignments because it’s much easier to write 1,000 words on a specific topic than it is to write as much (or as little) as you want on whatever you want. It’s the same reason your first writing assignment after summer break was always about what you did over the summer. Limitations stimulate creativity.
However, in my case, there are no limitations. It’s surprisingly scary. So because I have no limitations, I have to do the one thing I have been dreading, the one thing that is hardest for me to do: Look within and discover my passions. Join me as I blog on how, at 36, I return to my roots, retrace my steps, and do that one dreaded and difficult thing: Plan a future wholly for myself.