A very brief history of my time leading up to leaving the US. Taken and slightly edited from my former blog.
Our modern way of life is killing me. Sitting all day long hoarding nuts for the coming storm seems just a comfortable way of whittling the alarmingly short amount of time I have on this planet away. I came into this world with only one resource and I will leave only once it is entirely depleted; money is an idea, land will outlive me, time is all I have. And of that time the only control I have is over the quality with which it passes; in the depth and value of the stories I create. Any moment could be my last and 25 years was the cost of now.
Three years ago I was caught firmly in the path of least resistance. I went to school because it was expected rather than to expand my understanding of this universe and I worked to pay bills rather than in pursuit of my passions. I was wasting my consciousness and squandering my intellect. I had passion but no direction and most of it fizzled into various small adventures; rock climbing, backpacking and eventually bicycle touring.
On a whim a friend and I decided to fly our bicycles up to San Fransisco and ride back to LA. Neither of us had toured before and we did so wholly under prepared; sleeping on cardboard and attempting to use foil bivvies in lieu of sleeping bags. We froze most nights and lived off ramen most days but despite this the experience proved remarkable for me; it was so removed from any lifestyle I”d ever experienced. It gave me a new perspective with which to contrast my earlier and much more conventional life.
When we reached LA, I just kept going, I never wanted to stop. It went on until I ran out of money in Tijuana and rode back on 4 dollars, a bottle of Excedrin, some cheese and a bag of bagels.
I arrived back to home without a dollar to my name and only a slight bit of cheese left; with purpose for the first time in years. I had to do this for the foreseeable future, I wanted to cycle around the world.
To this effect my first goal was money. I felt that I needed money to fund a never ending adventure and for an adventure to be never ending I needed a source of income that was self sustaining. With my limited to no experience I narrowed my options down to starting some kind of business. Seeing as I had no access to any significant amount of capital I decided on forming a business around the most profitable skill I possessed: IT. So I started a yelp page (Firefix, it’s still up), seeded it, and off I went.
One year later I’d snowballed enough business to open a shop and did so in Redondo Beach, California. One year after that I had a couple employees and the business was making some money, but not enough to travel the world. I hated my life. I was spending the one and only resource I have in this existence turning screws, taking and giving orders biding time for a life deferred while my youth passed me by. It all seemed so tragically comic; that this animal, this ape would spend his time locked away in a tiny room planning adventures under fluorescent lighting while a world went on unconcerned outside. I felt as though I had been duped into believing a conventional and horribly distorted reality centered around the fulfillment of the “American Dream”.
I tried to sell the business but each buyer fell through for one reason or another. I eventually just dissolved it, keeping a few of my larger clients to pay rent and moved forward. Isolating my existence to those few pursuits I value; from that moment I lived deliberately, changing my goals away from what was either expected or easy and towards the fulfillment of my goals and dreams.
Such is the foundation of my life now.