Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Making the leap...to being a nomad

I was living in Boston and had been there for over 25 years.  I loved it!   I loved being near long time friends, teaching the Deaf, the Red Sox and Fenway Park, Walden Pond, and having access to the coast, to Ogunquit, Maine - a favorite spot.  There was so much about the city that I loved and all of the memories that I had since I had come to Boston right outside of college.  So, why did I leave?  Burnout.  I couldn't do one more thing the same.  I couldn't do the same restaurants, the same stores, the same routine of working too much and traveling to my classroom and teaching the same ole same ole.  I couldn't deal with the educational system and all that it had become.  Conversations with friends had become redundant and even though I started to step out and do different things like African drumming and dancing, it just wasn't enough.  I just couldn't do one more thing the same.  Burnout.  


The year before my actual departure, I realized that I was about to pay off my debts.  I could actually leave even though financially it would be a risk.  But, I would be free of debt.  And, the Red Sox had won the World Series (2004)...I know that sounds ridiculous but I was a fanatic at the time and it was so good to be in the city when they finally won.  I was ready.  I could imagine making a change that I had been resistant to for so long...out of fear maybe or just not being ready to leave.  All I know is that things started to shift and I started to make plans.


I began to tell people of my plans to make a change, those who I knew would be supportive.  My support system included my friends and a spiritual mentor who had been encouraging me to leave a job that had been draining me for several years now, and, I spoke with my supervisor on how to take a leave of absence.  I knew that I probably would never return but this felt like a safe way to do it...just in case.  If I had had more courage, I would have just left, yet this was the best that I could do.  


It was months of planning, packing and purging.  I was so drained during those last days mainly because I did it mostly by myself.  And, maybe there was a lesson in there for me.  I rarely had to ask for help and it was a challenge for me.  And, although I did receive some from family and friends and unexpected help from someone whom I hardly knew, I did it largely on my own.  But, this lesson is a constant in my life and always has been..to ask for what I need and to ask for help.  It is not a sign of vulnerability or weakness.  It is just a need for help.


I still remember the day that I announced to my family that I was heading to Hawaii.  We were all sitting around the dinner table for a holiday.  I was contemplating on how to broach the topic since I knew it was going to be a shocker.  As I asked for help (internally), my brother-in-law actually started to discuss a previous trip to Hawaii.  I was jumping for joy inside for this opening.  I then said, "Speaking of Hawaii, I am going."  Cheers, happiness, "That's great! When?  For how long?"  Then the mood changed.  My answers were vague.  'I'm not sure' didn't go over too well when they were thinking I was going for a vacation.  "Umm, maybe for 6 months or 9...I am not sure."  


I could feel the underlying emotions from my family and I knew that they were struggling to understand me, but this had already become the norm.  I am an enigma to them.   I live and think differently than how we were raised and I could just feel the mixed emotions vibrating.  I had to stay strong, for my own personal growth.  I had to remember that my life had just as much value and I had a right to something outside of the box.    


I explained that I was taking a leave of absence and wanted to do some exploration, and, that I was going to do work exchanges in Hawaii for at least 6 months, then...?? I had a dream of traveling lightly and being a nomad.  I wanted to live outside of the traditional paradigm.  I wanted to jump, leap, surrender and come to know that I would always be taken care of no matter where I was.  And, mostly, I wanted to be found...to come home - to myself, to living passionately...to live again as I hadn't been living for so long.  


This is how I started to live as a nomad.

4 comments:

  1. Wonderful beginnings! I love this blog! I think the world is welcome and ripe for the stories of people who decide to live their own paradigm and not the formulaic box built by society. Kudos!

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  2. Thank you ~ Mahalo ~ Muchas Gracias

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  3. I love your blog and can't wait to read more of your adventures! May your blog inspire others to follow their dreams.

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  4. Thanks Denise! I hope that it will be inspiring. And, it has been great writing about my travels and experiences, and to see how it will unfold to present day. Thanks again!

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