How do you walk away from an extraordinary life in an idyllic city?
You trust your instinct.
You listen to your gut.
Three nights ago I knew what I needed to do.
The thoughts themselves had come sailing into my conscious mind during a concert three weeks earlier. Instead of embracing the band and my physical surroundings, I went inward to a place of deep, inner thoughts - the ones we don't always acknowledge on a daily basis.
My breakthrough, which came near the end of the concert, was the discovery that the time had come for me to go off and travel. I'd dreamt about it for years, talked about it with friends, and always found an excuse for why the timing wasn't right.
"I should save a bit more money first."
"I need one more year of experience in my job."
"What about my studio apartment, there's no way I could give that up."
"I still have plenty of time to do this before I'm 30."
But this night at the concert was different. Everything clicked. My life in Vancouver had stalled, and things like investing in a couch or getting a four-legged friend just weren't going to happen until I got the travel bug out of my system.
My desire to see the world was stronger than any of the creature comforts of home.
"I had the craziest revelation during that concert"; I told my friend as we spilled out of the venue and on to Granville Street. "'I'm going to quit my job and go travelling". Her response was a combination of support mixed with "I'll believe it when I see it". Fair.
I slept on it. I woke up to a sunny Saturday morning and strolled over to the Trout Lake Farmer's Market. The thoughts were still there. I phoned my dad and shared my discovery with him. With his support and fatherly wisdom, I put it out to the universe. My friends all shouted a resounding cry of "Yes! Go do it."
Then, over the last three weeks, it almost didn't happen. The "logic" side of my brain took over and I shifted my energy and attention elsewhere. I let outside forces steer me down a different path.
I allowed myself to take the leap of faith by removing fear from the equation.
I got clear with what I was afraid of giving up (the relationships I'd built, my career, this damn studio apartment), and suddenly I saw that I was responsible for manifesting all the things of great value in my life. These things weren't merely a product of luck. And if I did it once, I could do it again. I was at peace with what I wanted to do.
I ripped off the metaphorical band-aid, quit my job and gave notice to my landlord. The time is now.
June will be my last month in Vancouver for now. After working hard and hustling for many years, I'm looking forward to some quality down time in Kelowna with family + friends over the summer before I embark on a journey to Europe for a working holiday.
I created this website last year with the intention of starting a music blog. It seemed criminal to have gone to 29 concerts in 2017 and not properly document them along the way (if only for my own sake). Life got in the way, as it often does, and Every Genre took low priority on my to-do list. But with a new journey about to begin, the creative juices are flowing.
So I leave you, dear reader, with a song I've been listening to this week from Snow Patrol's latest album.
This is life on earth
It's just life on earth