A Manifesto for the Rest of Us
I have no desire to be location independent. I may like to travel or go on vacation, but using my laptop on the beach doesn't sound fun. I don't want to work just four hours a week. I don't mind work if I enjoy it, use my talents, and am appreciated.
I want a job I love.
I want my kids to admire, appreciate, and adore me.
I want to be around to do fun things with my parents, my siblings, my friends, and my family.
I want to settle down, plant roots, and watch my legacy grow for a while.
Instead of being wealthy, sexy, or hip, I really just want to be happy.
And if I go to the ends of the earth looking for happiness and it turns out that it was right in front of me all along - in the form of stability, family, and simplicity - then that's on me.
What I need then is to find a place where I can use my talents and gifts and be rightly rooted in community.
I don't want to miss out on a great life because the one someone else was living looked more alluring through the rose-colored glasses of the Internet.
Beaches and independence don't have a monopoly on fun, meaning, belonging, happiness, or impact.
Being the master of my fate and the captain of my soul may mean that I decide to leave the vessel in port for a while. Parties happen there, too, you know.
I don't want to miss out on where I am because I'm always thinking about where I should be.
Community can happen in lots of ways, but it happens best when you show up, shut off your phone, and create memories together.
The real journey I'm on is the quest to be me. That's the one I'm chasing; not the one someone else is after.
Here's to the rest of us, the ones who are learning to be our best selves, to be happy where we are, to dream bigger than ever before, understanding that dreams can move us without moving us.