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Part 51: Not Exempt

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Photo: Daryan Shamkhali via Unsplash

What happens when you have the opportunity to live your life to its fullest potential?

When your dreams are just in front of you, ripe for the taking – would you be brave enough to stretch just a little further to take them?

It was the first friday of the month at Impact Hub, a coworking space in Oakland that hosts a monthly community lunch splendidly called “sexy salad.”

I got to chatting with the woman sitting across from me, a beautiful Indian woman with a purple scarf I coveted. Somehow we landed on the topic of travel. I told her about my goal to travel more this year because for the first time in my life I’ve gotten to a place where I have the freedom and flexibility to do so, time and purse-strings willing.

I’ve been known to be unreasonable and/or naive when it comes to some aspects of reality.

For example, I often receive a cringeworthy glance from others when talking about my plans. My dream scenario is a life filled with travel, writing, love, and helping great people and companies – immersing myself into new and strange situations while simultaneously having a cozy base somewhere lovely to call home. It’s the look one gives to a child who delightedly said something totally inappropriate at the worst possible time and was not at all aware of doing so.

Here’s another example: I recently learned that I’m supposed to file taxes every quarter.  I’ve been freelancing for nearly a year.

Still, on that day specifically the intentionality of “sexy salad” was very clear. It was simple: it was time for me to travel.

That night, I walked down Valencia Street en route to a friend’s monthly wine party.

I walked past a particular building and thought about the normcore guy who lived there.

He had unceremoniously ended things between us just a few days ago, as casually as one would choose pizza over Japanese food. “Yeah, I’m just not sure this is going to agree with me long term.”

Days later, I still felt fragile about it all.

I call him normcore because he’s the first person I’ve ever dated who has a real job.

As in a stable, full-time, salaried, full-benefits-package-and-everything job. I was very proud of this fact. He also lives in a nice apartment that, impressively, is fully furnished. He does not sleep on the floor and has actual nightstands. He had a perfect pair of well-behaved dogs and loads of frequent flyer miles. He lives for the New England Patriots and Monday night football with his friends.

He was the perfect picture of stability and security, particularly when my life was all over the place.

This is why when it didn’t work out, I was left feeling somewhat crispy around the edges. 🧀

It’s not that I don’t fit the normcore profile  –  roaming the aisles of Costco is one of my all-time favorite things to do. It’s Warholian and delightful.

But as I walked down that San Francisco street thinking about it all, I felt consumed by an overwhelming sense of joy and relief.

Because I realized that having stability, security, and establishment are really nice things to have, and I’ll get there after I’ve earned it – but there’s unfinished business to take care of, too.

And that “unfinished business” is way more exciting. It’s the stuff one dreams about while roaming the aisles at Costco.

So, I threw my chest back and yelled “EXEMPT!” at the top of my lungs. And it felt nice. So I tried singing it.

I walked two entire (read – long) blocks singing the word “exempt” on repeat.

I didn’t care. I was in the Mission anyways, the so-called alt-neighborhood of this half-baked town. It was cleansing, and it was a reminder  – who am I to settle for the norm?

Besides, Monday night football is fun but studies have indicated that enormous TVs have been shown to induce persistent migraines over time. And to be totally honest with you, I still don’t fully understand the game.

Plus, life is waiting in the background, quietly whispering the words “it’s just the beginning.”

Writing our own playbook isn’t easy, but it sure is fun.

Later at my friend’s wine party, I met someone new and again the conversation turned to travel. The next afternoon I woke in a wine haze to a fresh email on my phone.

“Here’s the exact itinerary from my Southeast Asia trip. Follow this and you’ll be good.”

And there it was.

I want to tell you that I booked a flight that day.

Instead, I set up flight alerts and started talking a big game.

I told one of my best friends, a fellow misfit – that I was skipping town. Now, this friend goes on admirably crazy expeditions and sends inquiring emails to friends about doing things like going “catfish noodling in Alabama.”  He returns from each adventure looking remarkably refreshed every time.

But first, I had to listen very closely to what it was that I wanted to do.

I prayed in order to ask, and meditated in order to listen. One day, I got the answer.

There is a place I’ve been wanting to travel to ever since I was a kid.

Every time I think about this place, it brings me joy. Yet actually going there has always been a pipe dream that I tell people about with a faraway look in my eyes.

You know the look.

“I’ve always wanted to go there…” I’d say, taking a long slug of my Sapporo as I gazed out the window at the other happy people pushing along exquisite shopping carts full of stuff.

But there it was – the super savings airline deal fresh in my inbox.

And so, I booked a flight to Japan. I’ll be living in Tokyo for at least a month. I’ve kicked myself out of my apartment before, I figured –  so why not do it again?

(And instead of drive all around California in a Prius for two months do something slightly more imaginative?)

I want to become exempt from the bullshit, but not from my dreams. This is now my inquiry. I owe it to myself to be fully alive, even if at times it becomes ridiculously unstable, unestablished, and insecure.

Why not?

Maybe I should be unreasonable enough to get after my dreams and be brave enough to peek around to the other side.

Because either this is my life and it’s ending one day at a time, or it’s only just the beginning.