This is a post in a series on life design.
Here is where the rubber meets the road. I knew I had to leave. I knew what I wanted and what I valued. Those exercises solidified the fact that I really, truly needed to depart the cubicle. It was cold as hell, the commute was killer and, oh wait- it was doing nothing for my life.
But that was me. Sometimes figuring out what you want means that you end up where you started, but with an adjusted mindset. It provides a check up from the neck up. Maybe the cubicle is cool, but you need to find a better way to connect with your family. Maybe you love your work, but need to spend more time in nature. Maybe you love the industry, but the location isn’t doing it for you.
If you were to sit in a soundproof room, with no one around, with no recording devices— a virtual vacuum, if you will, what would your vision be? What lights you up? What do you want? So often I would edit my vision. Make it more palatable, PC or understandable. Remember that cocktail conversation? I would shoehorn my vision into that, something that conveyed all the Western world markers of success.
“Okay, Self. We can’t go big on the vision. We need to make it concise. Nothing to out there or hippy— something that impresses the investment bankers. Something that speaks to the financial freedom I’ll have, the mortgages, the retirement savings. Something that indicates I’m still progressing along the social acceptable timeline. Tamp it all down. I see you over there, whipping up visions. They are grandiose and off the beaten track. Just have some chill, okay?”
So let’s not have your vision be hampered by that massively unproductive self talk.
Get real with yourself and be honest. What do you actually want? You don’t have to tell the world. Yet. But you need to get honest with yourself if you want to start planning (even if, initially, it is shrouded in secrecy).