The Leap
So my entire life after paring down up until just minutes before the drive to the airport (much to my father’s dismay), is crammed into a few bags—basically what’s allowed onto a plane without incurring extra charges. I’m sort of going off into the unknown, but not in the Chris McCandless way. I’ve given away and sold a lot of my things, and I’ve put a few mementos into storage, but I’m not giving up all luxuries. I am after all packing two pairs of sunglasses—one pair of D&G aviators and one pair of Prada wrap-arounds. We might be looking for the same thing though; what that is, I don’t know, but it’s an internal itch that I’m not sure will ever end.
After moving every few years of my entire life both within the USA and abroad, I thought I had finally landed on my “Ithaca” about three years ago. I had saved enough money to buy a house—in San Diego, I was engaged, and I had just landed what I thought would turn into my dream job, so I started to settle and accumulate. When things turned out to be not so dreamy, I was faced with a choice—to sacrifice whatever was needed to maintain what I had (that would be my sanity), or to follow that urge and jump back into an adventurous, but less predictable existence.
Before I left, someone said, “You’re choosing to live as a retired person, now.” I’m not retired. I actually love to work hard and to study continuously. I will never retire. That’s the point—I won’t live life like I’m going to retire one day and hope that I suddenly feel compensated for all of my years of hard work. Why do we live towards this illusion of free time and bliss when we can live it now in the present? It’s obtainable now. (I’m sounding like the guy who wrote the “4-Hour Workweek.”) I’d rather spread a retirement lifestyle out over time and just never retire in the traditional sense.
In fact, I’m excited that I already have a job! Having told my friends about some of the amenities advertised in the popular budget hotel in San Jose, Costa Rica where I’ll touch down, everyone is eager to know what this swim-up bar in the pool looks like? Will it be as Linda envisioned with an inner-tube and a six-pack of Fosters floating in the pool, or will it be as Alicia described with submerged stools surrounding a well-stocked bar? And, of course, everyone wants to hear about that mechanical bull…I’m not retiring; I’m on a mission!
