Then it was the holiday season. My partner and I had only two weeks before we had to return to work, so we squeezed in a visit to our respective home cities. We spent the first few days in my home town catching up with some old mates - discussing new mortgages, new engagements, who was getting married, who was having (or had) children. As I hadn't been back to Sydney for over a year, a lot had gone on - seemingly overnight. It seemed that we had suddenly reached that age where everyone was making big decisions and big commitments. Sure, some friends and acquaintances had started early - Facebook had conveyed a steady stream of wedding photos and baby pics and engagement announcements over the last year or two. But they were the exception, not the norm. Now it seemed that I was the exception, with no mortgage or engagement ring or pregnancy to boast about.
I suppose what made this realisation so confronting was that these were old friends, people I'd known for years, people I'd lived with and grown up with and been through major milestones with... To suddenly feel like we were moving in different directions (or rather, they were moving and I wasn't doing much at all) was a little...confronting.
The following day as I headed up the coast I analysed how I'd felt being back in Sydney. Was I simply jealous? Or insecure because time hadn't stood still, and my friends were getting on with their lives? It was undoubtedly naive of me to expect I could just drift in and out as I pleased and things would stay the same...
But it wasn't that simple. I'd been moving around/traveling the majority of the last 6 years (Sydney, London, Europe, Melbourne, South East Asia...) So I already knew life back home was continuing without me. What was really nagging at me was a sense of things ending, a sense that those frivolous years of exploration, self-discovery and reinvention were coming to an end. My friends were making major (marriage) and irreversible (kids) life decisions now. Decisions that would undoubtedly have an impact on everything. That would undoubtedly change everything.
I wasn't ready for things to change. Even though I wasn't the one making such big decisions, to realise that I was nearing "that age" and knowing that such things lay ahead for me... well, quite frankly it terrified me.
I'm at a loss to explain what happened next, but I was suddenly overwhelmed by a massive sense of claustrophobia. As I sat on that groaning bus, weaving its way along the NSW coast - I stared out at families on holiday, in caravan parks and beach-side towns, lazily strolling about eating ice cream and enjoying their 2 weeks annual leave... and I wanted to smash a window and run screaming back down the highway. My imagination ran wild with a slideshow of images of what might lie ahead: a bulging pregnancy, changing nappies, a mortgage in the 'burbs. Needless to say it was a bleak picture, and instead of inspiring or exciting me, I was filled with dread.
Now before I go on - I'm not criticising the choices of my friends. Nor do I want to paint myself as anti-marriage, anti-babies or anti-anything. It was clear all of them were ecstatically happy, their babies were undoubtedly gorgeous, new engagements and pregnancies were incredibly exciting - and the truth is, I envied their new, grown up homes (so far removed from our tiny, inner-city 1brm, a stone's throw from the train line with its 70's brown-tiled kitchen). What had blindsided me was the sense that I wasn't ready. How had time passed so quickly? How did I get here? And was this really where I wanted to be?
That last question hit me the hardest. The answer (or rather, finding the answer) suddenly seemed crucial - before time slipped away from me like the last 10 years seemed to.
The truth is, for the last year or two I'd had a nagging sense of dissatisfaction. Initially I presumed the restlessness was because I'd yo-yoed between cities and countries and been living out of a suitcase the majority of the last 6 years. I'd made many new friends, but lost touch with more than I cared to count. And despite moving up in my career, if I was honest with myself many of the roles I'd had of late I hadn't enjoyed much at all. I'd become increasingly disenchanted with the industry I was in, and was finding it harder and harder to ignore my growing apathy and resentment of the bullshit.
Something had to change. I didn't like these feelings - I wanted peace. And I didn't want to drift aimlessly through another decade in a blur (as fun as it was!) I wanted to take control - to grow up and start doing what I really wanted to do. I've never felt my life was dictated by others exactly, but I had made compromises (as we all do). I'd studied long and hard to build a career I now wasn't even sure I wanted. I'd invested in relationships and people both good and bad. I'd clocked countless hours working for others, helping to build their businesses and lining their pockets... And the reality was, compromise was going to be an inevitable part of my future. Which is fine if it was for things I was sure I wanted. But as I wasn't sure what I wanted, I needed to find out...
I'd always dreamt of taking off for a year or two (or more) and just seeing what was out there. To travel with no real map, no final destination. To just be a nomad, at the mercy of fate with no goal greater than to simply explore the world. To immerse myself in different cultures and new experiences, no matter how challenging or confronting.
Of course I'd done the travel thing before, often for months at a time. I'd sold up and packed up my life and headed overseas to start anew. But those trips had always had a purpose and an expiration date, where I'd inevitably return to my roots. I wanted to travel with no purpose and no expiration date. To buy a one-way ticket from point A to point B, with point C unknown.
I wanted to do it before I lay down anymore roots, anywhere else. To just be free, reckless, vulnerable, independent - as the claustrophobia I was feeling started to wane, the picture grew clearer in my mind. Ironically, to take control of my life I felt the answer was to surrender control in another sense completely. It was such a seductive idea...
I began to consider the practicalities of such a move. Between my partner and I we had a decent amount saved. We'd been talking about moving into a bigger flat, getting some nicer things. But suddenly that seemed like less of a priority. Who needed more space and nice things when we could just have nothing and no obligations, to just be free to go wherever, whenever we wanted?
But it wasn't all about me. He'd need to quit his job. To put his career on hold. I'd need to leave my job - and despite not being entirely happy, I knew I was valued at work and still felt guilty about doing that to my employer. We'd need to say goodbye to friends and family, potentially for a long time. There'd be major milestones and life events of theirs that we'd probably miss. If/when we returned, I'd most likely feel even more disconnected than I did now. And we'd need to fund such a move with our hard-earned savings... which meant that first and foremost, our savings would need to grow.
Still, I was determined we could do it if we really wanted to. I was used to being frugal - I'd moved out of home straight after school, and supported myself through my degree and post-grad working part-time. I'd funded all my prior travels myself. I knew it would be worth it if we could be self-disciplined and budget accordingly.
Fortunately, my partner agreed to my idea. I wasn't entirely surprised - when we'd first got together, he'd quit his job and rented his apartment to go traveling with me for 5 months (after having spent only 3 weekends with me). One of the reasons I love him so much is his easygoing nature. He is the epitome of a 'free spirit' - he lives by his own rules, and has nothing to prove to anyone else.
And so the '30 for 30' goal was born. It became a slogan for what we aspired to save to fund our adventure - $30,000 each to take off traveling at the start of our 30's.
I'm pleased to say we're almost there - the flights are now booked, the date firmly set. In 5 short weeks we'll begin our adventure, we'll step into the unknown...
So stay tuned :)
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