Life’s different now that I’m self employed and work from home. I don’t go out much, except for some work-related meetings and to run household errands. About one or twice a week, I catch up with a friend. All of my trips out of the house have a destination and a purpose. I no longer just mill about.
This started because I had to be good about money (and leaving the house means spending money.) Now that I’ve cut back, I’m seeing how much I used to blow. Back when I still had my big firm job, a typical day consisted of a couple of meals out, a visit or two to Starbucks, a few purchases online, and other miscellaneous activities (drinks, movies, concerts.)
Tonight I walked around the neighborhood to get some fresh air. I was driving myself crazy over-thinking my life and worrying about my finances. I needed get out of my head a bit and thought leaving the house would be a good place to start. I realized how isolated I’ve become. Interaction from a business meeting is not socially enjoyable or relaxing for me. I had forgotten what it feels like to look around or to be amongst people. It was really nice.
I strolled about and checked out the posters outside of the movie theater, Then, I poked around the book store and even peaked in the Apple store. Everyone was having a giant sale and everything was marked down (not just a bunch of crappy old stuff that’s been sitting in inventory too long.) I know about the terrible state of our economy, but I haven’t really noticed its effect because I’m now a self-employed frugal hermit.
I felt really down after my excursion out. At first I was annoyed at myself—I thought it was only because I wanted to buy things. But it means a lot more than just that. I felt dejected because I no longer have the kind of comfortable life I worked my ass off to attain. I’ve gone through most of my savings and the debt is starting to pile up. My old life is totally gone.
I stumbled upon a huge realization tonight. I left a successful career, a comfortable life and financial stability. I gave up something of value in exchange for the possibility of something greater—for a chance to rebuild my life. Well I feel like a moron because I’ve gave up everything and I haven’t reaped any of the benefits. I’m not even making the most out of my opportunity.
I hoped to figure out what I’m passionate about, what it is that makes me excited to get up in the morning. I want to build a career from that place, but I haven’t let myself to even begin thinking about it. Yeah, I have to work to pay the bills in the meantime, but I’ve had this stupid fallacy that I can’t think about my dreams until I get this interim (and I emphasize interim) job up and running.
Well, what the hell did I give everything up for? I let go of my comfortable existence to find something better and I’m too afraid to ask myself what I want. I know I’m afraid to fail, but Jesus, I have nothing left to lose. I’m broke, I’m unhappy and I’ve got nothing but my damned faith that I can pull this off.
There’s no benefit (or glory) to being both miserable and poor. I meant to use this time to find my passions and to pursue my dreams. But since I’m not, I may be better off with another cushy, well-paying job. I may still be miserable but not being dead broke would be an improvement to my current state.
But no, I’m not ready to give up. It’s time to start looking into what I want. Every time I’ve gone through this exercise, my mind starts censoring my daydreams. I just end up frustrated and with some tempered solution of what I should do, because it’s practical. Trying to find a job that fits my personality feels backwards and inefficient. I have to start somewhere and I think the process should begin with my interests.
So what do I like? I like working on the business side of things. That much is unchanged. I enjoy the strategy behind business growth and campaigns, but merely working in business is not enough for me. I want my career to incorporate some aspect of business, only this time, in a more fun and less rigid way.
I also enjoy reading and writing. But I’m already exploring this outlet by writing this column. What else? I spend a lot of time eating and watching sports. (As much as I love both activities, I don’t want to make a career out of either.) I love music for sure. I may even be obsessed with it. Now I’m onto something. Except, I don’t want to be a musician—not professionally. I’d love to have it as part of my career somehow.
I’ve been thinking a lot about photography. I am moved by the raw simplicity of a look, an expression. I believe photographs can both convey and elicit emotions—feelings of love, serenity, anxiety, pity and anger. When I look at a photograph, I experience a connection and degree of intimacy that I’m not generally privy to. It’s like getting a sneak peak into someone’s private world.
If I were a photographer, I’d try to show our complex versatility—beauty, malice, vulnerability, innocence, and grotesqueness. Oftentimes, all of these seemingly polar traits exist in a single subject. I want to show our range of emotions and I’m dying to help people see themselves, through my work.
Ok, here’s a leap. My ideal career would have: one part photography, one part business strategy and a dash of rock n roll. Where is this job? Does it even exist?
