As the great Kurt Vonnegut once said, in small dictionaries the only word between timid and Timbuktu is time... A fleeting resource, sometimes in abundance but often sorely lacking. After months spent working 12-hour days to ensure a comfortable post-grad life, I suddenly found myself on the former end of the spectrum. What do you do when the most defining parts of your everyday are stripped away, making it painfully obvious that you don't know what your motivation was to begin with?
In my case, the answer is a pint of self-pity, then a drastic change.
I always measured success in societally obvious ways; an Urban Outfitters Instagram-worthy apartment, a trendy job that offers the potential to rub shoulders with the elite of LA, a stuffed closet, and a surplus of envy-inducing weekend excursions. Yet with all of these within my grasp, doubt grew into a dissatisfaction with my chosen path. As all things must eventually come to light (despite the staunchest self-denial), this culminated in a wake-up call.
I took a wrong turn.
I've since learned that if you don't stay true to yourself, happiness will never be within your reach. So I threw out all expectations of "success" and started anew, attempting to invigorate my passion.
Thus I arrived at my decision to eschew a traditional job and travel as a digital nomad, devoting time to new clients, passion projects, and the quest for undiscovered skills. A choice true to my desires without adhering to a standard plot-line of life. The likelihood of failure is high, as is the likelihood of growth - in my opinion, best achieved by being in a constant state of discomfort. I haven't yet gained certainty, but I have gained clarity:
It's scary to admit that you don't know what you want, but scarier still to plot and follow a course without motivation.
While I deeply respect those who work tirelessly in a 9-5 to achieve their goals, I haven't yet discovered mine beyond creating good work and satisfying my wanderlust. I went through the motions nonetheless, putting my nose to the grindstone and hoping there would be time in the future for myself. The fear of failure ripped me out of the present, and I may have woken up in 20 years having attained the aforementioned "success" with my once-bright passion bobbing in a pool of scum. Despite my love for art and design, I was stagnating in a predictable situation. I firmly believe that alongside self-discovery, my travels will ignite a spark of inspiration that will push my work to the next level and allow me to uncover the goals that I'm willing to work tirelessly for.
For now, you can find me between timid and Timbuktu: Sometimes too much, but never enough.