Six years ago, I started this blog. My job situation no longer served me. There was no draw to stay and I began the search for how to let go. Finding other fifty plus year olds who were willing to leave what they considered stability and security to wander the unknown was challenging. Lots of young people out exploring the world, making do with what is or comes, and willing
to take risks. It would seem that the wisdom of age would support going forth.
11.11.11, that's the day I walked away. Took a flight west for two weeks. Worked on my novel - NaMoWriMo. Watched ALL of Fraiser. Drank beer. I saw the city - San Fran and the Bay Area. I visited family and friends. I had a spa day and time at the beach. I had saved six months salary to commit to this process, to figure something out.
My plan was thwarted by the demands (then requests) from my family of origin to return "home" to tend the sick and dying. The question of my agreement is another post. I went and spend the next six months traveling between my home and theirs, sometimes daily. Maybe I wasn't specific enough about the travel plan. I drained my savings, sold any valuables worth a hundred or more, lived more simply. I made do.
Then I got a call from an old work mate asking me to come to work for her company. And so began the ridiculous saga that finally ends this weekend. My new freedom date becomes 11.06.17. I wanted to leave sooner. I planned to move on. I shifted based on money. Then something happened and I knew I would not stay longer than the resignation requirement.
This time I have no six months living expenses in savings. No particular plan or even idea of what's next. I am open. I am attentive. In the meantime, I am off again, heading west. Instead of writing, I knit and have a daily photo plan. Still planning to drink beer.
I'm living life, around the curve.